


The Bunny Saga

by alkjira



Series: Fix-it (!) December [8]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff and Crack, HRBB14, Happy, Inspired by Art, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Rabbits, hobbit reverse big bang 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 11:39:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2731103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/pseuds/alkjira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the first part of the Bunny Saga: Thorin and the Bunnies - (Or: <em>Let’s pretend it isn’t.)</em><br/>we follow Thorin as a strangely familiar rabbit show up in Erebor. And it will soon be apparent that it's not alone.</p><p>The Bunny Saga is finished with two parts and a total of eight chapters and will be posted over the next four days, (finishing on the 10th) two chapters per day.</p><p>Art by fishsicle in later chapters. (It's amazing)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thorin and the Bunnies. Chapter 1.

**Author's Note:**

> Made for fischsicle's bunny art/prompt for the Hobbit Reverse Big Bang, and it's been a total blast from start to finish!  
> http://fishsicle.tumblr.com/
> 
> Thanks a million to diemarysues for looking this over
> 
>  _“Hallo, Rabbit,” he said, “is that you?”_  
>  “ _Let’s pretend it isn’t,” said Rabbit, “and see what happens.”_  
>  ― A.A. Milne

The hour was late and Thorin was tired.  
  
It was an entirely different sort of tired than the bone-deep ache he’d sometimes felt when working long days as a smith, but he was not really any fonder of the way a full day of holding court made his head feel.  
  
Or, perhaps he was a _little_ fonder of those sessions bothersome and infuriating as they were, as the feeling that his head was filled with cotton was undeniable proof of how he had his home back.  
  
Erebor, last of the mighty Dwarven kingdoms, was theirs once more and for that Thorin would suffer worse than tiresome talk and foolish opinion. He had _already_ suffered worse in fact, as not even the worst of the Dwarfs on his council were as infuriating as a certain Elven king and his penchant for looking people up in dungeons. And they didn’t smell as bad as Trolls, and were at least a little more clever.  
  
The year since they’d reclaimed Erebor had passed quickly, and there were still the occasional mornings when Thorin woke up expecting to open his eyes to the grey stone of Ered Luin. On those mornings he remained in bed for just a little longer than he normally did, gazing up at the dark marble that covered the ceiling in the King’s chambers. His chambers.  
  
It was to those he was headed now, eager to finally get some sleep. And some time alone.  
  
Even now walking through the dimly lit halls there were two guards following behind him, something that would not have been the case had not Dís, Dwalin, and Dáin cornered him together, making him promise to agree to it. For his protection.  
  
 _Protection_. As if he had not proven himself in battle many times over.  
  
“Are you going to always dress in full armour then, brother?” Dís had asked and crossed her arms. “Sword strapped to your back? That’s going to make sitting on the throne rather awkward.”  
  
Dwalin had been less polite. “Kings have guards, deal with it,” he’d snorted. “Makes everyone less antsy.”  
  
But it was Dáin who had finally talked him into it by declaring that in the event of Thorin’s unfortunate demise he and Dís would refuse the crown and make sure that either Fíli or Kíli ended up with it.  
  
“They’re good lads,” Dáin had said, nothing in his expression betraying anything other than genuine earnestness. “Friendly. I heard about the pony incident of course, but ponies are tricky creatures. Hard to keep track of, very easy to misplace. I’m sure that an entire kingdom will be _much_ easier. At least if Fíli can keep his eyes off all the pretty young lads and lasses and if Kíli stops dreaming about that Elven lady of his.”  
  
And so it came to pass that Thorin agreed to have guards watching over him. To make Dáin keep his mouth shut if nothing else. Seemed reasonable, all things considered.  
  
Besides, he would only need to agree to it for as long as it took for the lads to grow up that final bit and then Dáin would lose that bargain chip. It wouldn’t be long now. And hopefully Kíli would move beyond his fascination for that redheaded she-Elf as well…  
  
The quest had matured them both a great deal, and to be quite honest Thorin was _relieved_ that it had not managed to turn them into sombre shadows of themselves. He loved them as if they were his own, and if something had happened -  
  
No, that did not even bear thinking about, and so Thorin didn’t.  
  
As the hour was late it meant the halls he walked through were almost deserted. There were plenty of places inside Erebor that would still be teeming with people, but those were all closer to the mines and the main common areas.  
  
At the moment he was walking through the hall dedicated to Vána the Ever-young. The Vala with the golden hair that Mahal used to craft Durin’s crown, and it was due to her that Durin became known as the Deathless, as she blessed him with an even slower aging than the rest of his kin.

The hall was empty, and Thorin kept his gaze fixed forward to avoid looking at the flowers made of pure gold that rested at the foot of Vána’s statue. It was much too late and he was much too tired to think of flowers and a particular someone who was inexplicably fond of them.  
  
As he continued through the hallways the few people still up and about all bowed and smiled, murmured courteous greetings to their King as they passed him at a respectful distance.

Thorin inclined his head in turn as he desperately hoped that none would wish to actually speak with him. The day had indeed been long, and now he longed for the quiet solitude of his bed.  
  
And that was quite sad wasn’t it. How he looked forward to the privacy of his own chambers because he would be entirely alone in them.  
  
Thorin would not have minded having someone curled up in the bed, waiting for him, greeting him with a sleepy smile and tousled curls. But Erebor was already the impossible wish that he’d been granted, it would be greedy to wish for one more to come true, and Thorin had dealt enough with greed to last him two lifetimes. He would need to be content with what he had.

Finally they arrived to the royal wing, and Thorin headed down the right hallway, towards his chambers.

He passed Fíli’ and Kíli’s doors, and the door next to his own which would have been the consort’s chambers, and as he approached the last door he nodded to the guard standing watch outside.  
  
At least no one on the council had suggested reviving the old tradition for the King and royal family to have servants, courtiers and so forth present at all times of the day, something they’d entirely done away with in Ered Luin.  
  
Before the arrival of the wyrm things had been different. Thorin’s grandmother had forever been followed around by a gaggle of fluttering handmaidens, though just the idea of Dís subjected to the same made Thorin’s lips quirk upwards. He would not be surprised if it had been Dís who had made it clear to the council that they needn’t even propose to bring that tradition back.  
  
“You are all dismissed for the night,” Thorin told the three guards, in the vain hope that they would for once listen to him.  
  
Sadly they took their duties rather seriously. That, or Dwalin had threatened them with something a great deal more scary than the mild resignation Thorin felt each time they smiled and agreed with him only for them to remain outside his door.  
  
“Yes, sire,” the guard at the door agreed as he reached to open the door.  
  
Thorin hid a sigh as he walked into his chambers. Fine. Let them stay. If it made Dwalin and Dís and the others sleep easier at night it wasn’t more than Thorin owed them.

Like his nephews Thorin thought – hoped – that he had done some growing up on his own over the course of the last year and a half, and with any luck it had changed him for the better.  
  
The door slid shut behind him with a polite click and only then did Thorin allow himself to slump a little, tiredness now visible in the line of his shoulders and the way he rubbed at the bridge of his nose.  
  
Walking through the receiving room and into his bedroom Thorin unbuttoned his outer coat, tossing it towards the bed to be dealt with later. His crown and the majority of beads in his hair and beard were removed quickly and efficiently, followed by his outer tunic, and it was only after he’d pulled the thick garment over his head that Thorin saw it.

On one of the two armchairs in his bedroom a tiny little rabbit was curled up.  
  
-  
  
Thorin stared at the bunny, and the bunny looked back at him.

A small, honey-brown bunny would be an extremely strange thing for his mind to conjure up in a fit of extreme tiredness. Not to mention that Thorin wasn’t actually feeling tired enough to see things that weren’t there. The discussions with the guild leaders had been long, but they’d been far from the worst he’d suffered through.  
  
This meant that a rabbit was actually lying on one of his armchairs, watching him with rapt attention.  
  
It was not a problem Thorin had ever been expecting to have to deal with. He had plans on what to do in the event of Orcs, Elves, Dragons and so on, but rabbits had never even factored into them.  
  
Not that the little one looked hostile, no, if anything it looked a little wary, unsure of its welcome. Fitting, considering that Thorin had not actually invited it.  
  
There was something… _familiar_ , about the way the little thing nervously wrinkled its nose, and with the pointy tips of its slightly too large ears… and the colour of the fur, the big eyes, and the way it tilted its head.  
  
As he regarded it, the rabbit slowly uncurled to show surprisingly big feet for something so small and -  
  
 _By Mahal…_ Thorin’s eyes widened at the realisation. It reminded him of Bilbo.  
  
“Apparently the skin-changer had a point after all,” Thorin murmured as he slowly walked towards the armchair. The bunny did not move a muscle, nor did it look away from him. “Not that it explains what a rabbit is doing here.”  
  
Erebor was no place for rabbits, just as it was no place for Hobbits.  
  
Hobbits and rabbits both should live amongst green hills and their own kind. Below blue skies and sunshine. That was their home, and Thorin more than most knew how important homes were.  
  
The rabbit did not run away as he got close, which meant that either it was not afraid, or it was too terrified to move. The latter was quickly proven to be untrue, because as Thorin reached out for it, it bumped its head against his hand before willingly climbing into his palm.  
  
It was small enough to fit into his hand with room to spare, its weight entirely negligible, and Thorin shook his head at the absurd turn his night had taken.  
  
“I do not understand how you came to be here, but as you definitely do not seem to be wild I assume there is someone who must be missing you. Do you belong to a servant?”  
  
The rabbit looked up at him with an air of expectation, and Thorin very gently ran a thick finger along one silky ear.  
  
“When I tell Dwalin about this I think there are guards who will deeply regret their inattention. You are smaller than most assassins would be, but I doubt he will look upon this turn of events favourably. If someone could smuggle you into my quarters they could also bring other things.”  
  
The rabbit made a small soft sound, and it almost sounded inquiring.  
  
It made a small smile touch Thorin’s face. “But I doubt you were meant to be here. I don’t think Erebor is the right place for you to live, but your owner must be worried sick. Did you jump out of their pocket without them noticing?”  
  
The rabbit did of course not offer a reply, and Thorin chuckled softly once he realised that he’d half been waiting for one to come. Perhaps he was more tired than he thought after all.  
  
“One of the guards can find out who you belong to,” Thorin murmured. “Then you will be someone else’s problem.”  
  
With each step Thorin took towards the door, the rabbit seemed to shrink in on itself, turning impossibly even smaller.  
  
Its ears drooped pathetically and the pink little nose practically vibrated with distress as it looked up at Thorin. Hazel eyes held a wounded and confused look, as if it understood that he was going to give it away, but it didn’t understand _why_. Still, it didn’t try and escape from the careful hold he had on it, curling up ever tighter instead.  
  
It was possible that Thorin was reading entirely too much into the body language of a damned _rabbit_ , but for some reason, one best not investigated too closely, he’d not been all that fond of handing the creature off to one of his guards in the first place and now he most definitely was not.  
  
Not because he’d been swayed by a pair of sad eyes, no watching Kíli grow up had made sure he was quite resistant to that look. It had simply been a long day and he did not wish to make it longer. Yes, that was it.

If he were to hand the rabbit over to the guards there would be questions. There might be investigations of his chambers. Dwalin might be woken up. The rabbit might escape, and then there would be people running up and down the hallway and Fíli and Kíli would probably wake up which meant that Dís would soon be up as well because she possessed a mother’s sixth sense and always seemed to know when her sons were up after bedtime, despite Fíli and Kíli long having outgrown the need for a bedtime in the first place.  
  
No. The bunny could stay the night, and then he’d deal with it in the morning.

Having decided that Thorin turned around and headed back into his bedroom. Picking his tunic up from the floor where he’d dropped it, Thorin put it down on the same armchair the bunny had been laying on before, twisting the tunic into a nest of sorts.  
  
He had no idea if rabbits required nests, but the little thing made no protests when he carefully deposited it in the middle of his shirt.  
  
“Stay,” Thorin told it.  
  
Again the rabbit did of course not reply, but it burrowed down into the blue cloth and made a small grunt which Thorin chose to interpret as a promise to do just that.  
  
Considering that his guards did not listen when he told them to leave Thorin should perhaps not have been surprised when a rabbit ignored an order to stay.  
  
Its eyes followed him as he got ready for bed, and shortly after Thorin had gone into the bathing room to quickly wash himself before bed he heard a small, barely there, thump. Turning his head he saw the rabbit now sitting on the floor just outside the open door.  
  
“You were supposed to stay,” he told it sternly, pouring water from a pitcher into the large basin.  
  
One of the rabbit’s ears jerked, but it did not move until Thorin had washed his face and hands and was drying himself on a large towel. Then the little thing hopped into the room and didn’t stop until it was perched on top of his bare foot. The soft fur of its belly tickled slightly, and with a snort Thorin bent to pick the rabbit up.  
  
“You listen just as poorly as the one you remind me of.”  
  
The pink nose twitched, and the rabbit bumped its head against Thorin’s fingers. After settling it once again on the chair Thorin moved to blow out the candles dotted around the room, leaving only the small fire burning in the fireplace.  
  
“I hope you’ve sense enough to stay away from that,” Thorin told the rabbit as he turned down the covers on his bed. “If I’m awoken by the smell of burning fur I will not be pleased.”  
  
Just like the previous times no answer was forthcoming, unless you counted a sigh that seemed very longsuffering for such a small creature.  
-

The first thing Thorin saw when he opened his eyes the next morning was a rabbit. Only, it wasn’t _the_ rabbit. It was another rabbit. The first rabbit was still curled up on his tunic, giving him a defiant and slightly displeased look as if to say that it had spent the entire night in the chair and it had been _terrible_.

The new rabbit was lying in the bed on the second pillow, looking very pleased with itself. It was significantly bigger than the first one, but still left plenty of room to spare on the pillow.  
  
Its shiny coat was a tawny reddish colour, like copper mixed with sand, and it had bigger ears than the first one, ears which stood straight up from its head as if it was expecting to hear urgent news at any moment.  
  
As Thorin watched it and tried to understand what he was seeing, the rabbit made a small friendly sounding grunt. Thorin turned his head to look at the first rabbit, which now looked distinctly surly.  
  
Looking back at the red rabbit Thorin opened his mouth - even though he knew he would not get an answer - to ask where this new rabbit had come from, but he instead shut his mouth with a click when he noticed that there were now _two_ rabbits lying on the pillow.  
  
Thorin had heard that they reproduced at an impressive rate, but he also had a feeling that this was not what was happening here.  
  
To start, neither of the two new rabbits looked like the first one. The most recent newcomer was vaguely similar to the second one as its fur was also in shades of copper and sand, but it was much smaller, with drooping ears and slightly paler fur.  
  
As Thorin stared at the two rabbits in disbelief a third, or rather _fourth_ , bunny appeared out of thin air. Suddenly it was just sitting on the pillow, licking a paw before quickly grooming a silver coloured ear, looking as innocent and at home as if it had been there all along.  
  
“What by all the Valar is going on?” Thorin murmured as the last bunny began to groom the smaller of the other two, making small hiccupping noises as it did so.

A low grumpy mutter came from the bunny on the armchair.


	2. Thorin and the Bunnies. Chapter 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was planning on waiting a little longer but I couldn't lol  
> So here's the second chapter of the day.

“Could it be a curse of some sort?” Balin scrutinised the six bunnies in Thorin’s lap; from their silky ears down to their fluffy little tails.  
  
Two more had appeared after the emergency meeting Thorin had called had begun, which honestly had been somewhat of a relief. Before they’d appeared Thorin was fairly sure that no one had actually believed him.   
  
Balin had given him very concerned looks after he’d learnt that the emergency meeting was concerning rabbits, and after Thorin had explained how they had appeared out of nowhere, his old friend (and everyone else present at the meeting) had looked ready to very gently suggest that Thorin might have been working a little too hard lately, and didn’t a nap sound like a _wonderful_ idea?  
  
As such, it was with no small satisfaction that Thorin had watched the expression on everyone’s faces after two more rabbits popped into existence in the middle of the large marble table in the royal assembly hall. One moment an empty table, and the next: two additional rabbits.  
  
The look on Thorin’s face might have been just a tad too smug for it to be entirely appropriate, but he thought no one would blame him for it. Especially since they’d been much too busy gawking at the rabbits to do so.  
  
“Aren’t they too fluffy to be a curse?” Kíli asked and lightly prodded the closest bunny with the tip of his finger. “Because I think this one in particular is more fluff than actual rabbit. It’s like a tiny cloud.”  
  
The rabbit in question was one of the two who had last appeared.   
  
It was white with hints of silver, and at first glance it seemed to be quite a large rabbit. But upon closer examination it was indeed mostly fluff, albeit fluff covering a robust and compact little body.   
  
The rabbit that had appeared at the same time as the white one, now _that_ was indeed a large rabbit. One that might even be able to hold its own against a predator such as a fox, at least for a short time.   
  
There was a chunk of its right ear missing that suggested that something like this might once have happened, and the way it held itself and the look in its eyes distinctly reminded Thorin of that of an experienced warrior; watchful and aware of its surroundings at all time.  
  
However its size and general air of a fighter just waiting for the next attacker did not stop it from promptly claiming a seat in Thorin’s lap upon its arrival on the table. Or _trying_ to do so at least, as Thorin’s lap was already fairly occupied.  
  
It was the bunny that looked a little (or a lot…) like a certain Hobbit who had started it.   
  
Thorin had carried all the bunnies (four at the time) to the assembly hall, not wanting them to disappear on the way there, and after he’d put them all down on the table they’d all huddled in a miserable, lonely-looking pile. Pink noses twitching and ears drooping.   
  
The Bilbo-one had been the first who’d hopped across the table and down into Thorin’s lap. And then it had repeated it three times when Thorin had kept lifting it back up onto the table.   
  
Once he’d resigned himself to the inevitable and allowed the small bunny to lie in his lap, the other three had followed suit.   
  
At the time Thorin had been the only Dwarf in the room, which likely was for the best. Even if he had only called those he considered family to the impromptu meeting he still had his honour. A King should not be seen arguing with rabbits. Especially not when he ended up losing.

However after the two newcomers appeared in view of everyone, some rearranging was required to make everyone fit in his lap, and Thorin tried to do this as quickly and regally as possible while everyone else was still trying to understand that they’d just seen two rabbits pop into existence.   
  
Once Thorin was done the large rabbit had the three smallest rabbits piled on top of it, and the other two - the silver-coloured one and the white fluffy one - were nestled against it in a content tangle of fur.  
  
“I don’t see why a curse would not be able to be… fluffy,” Balin said in reply to Kíli. Thorin looked between his friend as Balin looked at his nephew, and the white bunny as it glared at Kíli for poking it, and noted that both Balin and the rabbit wore very similar expressions of resigned annoyance on their faces.   
  
“For it to be a curse, does it not have to have ill-intent?” Dís asked. “The rabbits might appear by way of magic, but they do not seem to mean my brother, or us, any harm.”  
  
The smallest- oh, and Thorin might just go ahead and call it Bilbo as that was what he thought each time he looked upon it, the Bilbo-bunny sniffed, and curled up a little tighter where it rested on top of the largest bunny.  
  
“It does not _look_ as if they do,” Balin said. “But that is not to say that they -”  
  
“You’re saying that they’re magical rabbit spies, or assassins?” Dwalin asked. “Magical rabbit assassins.” He shook his head. “Right.”  
  
“I’m saying that it’s wise to be cautious as long as we do not understand where they are coming from,” Balin argued. “There have been more than one recorded incidents of animals being used as spies. Just because these are rabbits and not cats, crows or -” he waved his hand in an all compassing gesture, “-something more sinister does it mean that we should act rashly and irresponsibly.”

The smallest reddish bunny yawned and stretched, managing to slip down from the larger bunny and fall down on top the silver-coloured one. Absent-mindedly Thorin lifted it back up again, stroking his finger along its spine almost like an afterthought.  
  
“Especially since I think this is not like you, Thorin,” Balin concluded and folded his arms over his chest. “Don’t you think you’re taking this just a little too calmly?”  
  
Thorin glanced down at his lap, and the six bunnies looked back up at him. He opened his mouth to reply, only at that very moment two more rabbits appeared on the table, immediately and enthusiastically proceeding to throw themselves into his lap, causing the other rabbits to grumble loudly in protest as they were trampled.   
  
“I’m not saying that you do not have a point, Balin,” Thorin said as he tried to make sure no one tumbled to the floor. “But I’m not sure how else you would have me act. This is hardly a normal situation. And being upset over rabbits does not seem necessary.”

“Look, one of the new rabbits looks just like Fíli!” Kíli exclaimed.  
  
“Point taken,” Balin said, leaning back in his chair with a sigh.  
  
-

“Then we are all in agreement,” Thorin said a little later in the meeting, once order had been restored and they’d been given a time free of additional rabbit appearances to actually talk about possible solutions for the situation at hand. “Fíli, Kíli, you will ask Captain Tauriel if she has heard of something like this before.”  
  
Kíli nodded, and Thorin pretended to not see the excited, pleased glances his nephews exchanged. It was quite enough to have _one_ nephew interested in Elves, he was not ready to have two.  
  
“And for now the rabbits will be taken to one of the empty chambers and put under guard until we can be sure they will not turn into a potential threat.”  
  
Dwalin grunted in agreement. “The lads who saw you carry them off this morning can do it. Best not to let the entire mountain know about this just yet.” He slapped his hand down on Balin’s shoulder. “Just in case these really are magical rabbit assassins. Wouldn’t want to cause a widespread panic.”  
  
“I never said that they _were_ ,” Balin said and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I just said -”

“That they might be magical rabbit assassins,” Dwalin concluded with a smirk. “It’s all right, brother. I’m not calling you over cautious. There’s a first time for anything. Even magical rabbit assassins.”  
  
“If they’re not out to kill us, can the us-bunnies come and stay with me and Fíli?” Kíli asked, leaning over the armrest of his chair until he was at risk of ending up in Thorin’s lap as well.   
  
The newly dubbed Fíli-and-Kíli-bunnies looked up at him with twitching noses, whiskers and ears. Thorin had to admit that Kíli did have a good point regarding the likeness. The colour of the most recently arrived rabbits matched the lads’ hair colours almost perfectly, and the Kíli-rabbit was rather large but a little lanky, its fur a little messy, whereas the Fíli rabbit had neater fur, and a sturdier, more compact build.   
  
“We will see,” Dís said with the exact same tone of voice she’d been using since the lads were old enough to start asking for things she had no intention of giving them. “But for now, Fíli could you please go and find Captain Dolim and ask him to send Thorin’s guards from this morning.”  
  
“That’s my heir you’re ordering about,” Thorin said mildly. “And you make it sound as if I’m a criminal needing guards.”  
  
“I ordered you about as well,” Dís said. “And you’ve made a decent enough king. Why stop something that obviously works? And that goes for you needing guards as well. Magical bunny assassins -”

Balin sighed.

“- certainly proves that point. Even if your guards did a deplorable job of protecting you from their wicked, fluffy paws.”  
  
Balin sighed more heavily.  
  
-  
  
When the guards came the rabbits did _not_ appreciate being separated from Thorin.  
  
First there were protests when they were once more placed on the table in wait for the guards to come, and despite Balin’s disapproving look Thorin eventually allowed the rabbits to hop back down into his lap. What harm could it do? The Bilbo one kept making low muttering noises until Thorin began stroking it, earning him another displeased look from Balin.  
  
“They are merely rabbits,” Thorin said, quite reasonably if you asked him.  
  
“ _Magical_ rabbit _assassins_ ,” Dwalin snorted, ducking to avoid the smack Balin aimed at the back of his head.  
  
Then came the point where the guards entered, all visibly confused at being told to basically take six rabbits prisoner. Grumbling, the rabbits allowed themselves to be picked up, but as they were carried away and the realisation hit that Thorin was not coming with them…  
  
“Mahal’s hammer,” Dwalin swore as all the rabbits began to _scream_. “That can’t be normal.”  
  
Dís winced. “You’ve never seen a fox as it hunts rabbits then. That’s the sound rabbits make when they’re being -” She glanced at Kíli who rolled his eyes.  
  
“Mum, I’m almost 80 not eight. I can handle the mental image of a fox killing a rabbit.”  
  
The noise, erm, _died_ as the door closed behind the three guards and the rabbits and Thorin became aware of a dull ache from his hands, and realised he was gripping the armrest of his chair hard enough to make his knuckles starkly white.  
  
“Well then,” Balin said, and Thorin made the concentrated effort of losing the grip he had on the chair before he actually managed to crack the wood. “This has certainly been an interesting morning. I think we -”  
  
Thorin would deny it later, but he might have flinched upon discovering that he suddenly had a lapful of rabbits once more. And there might have been a noise making its way out of his throat at a pitch that most people usually did not associate with him.  
  
Before Thorin could properly understand what had just happened the Bilbo-bunny bit his finger and jumped up on the table, lying down with its back turned so all Thorin saw was its backside with the tiny puffy tail sticking up.  
  
The other five bunnies stayed in his lap, glaring darkly up at him.  
  
“ _I_ think,” Dís said. “That while they are clearly magical, they make for poor assassins as that did not even draw blood.”  
  
Balin sighed once more, and this time the Bilbo-bunny sighed with him.  
  
-  
  
Shortly before dinner time Thorin had no less than thirteen rabbits following him around, figuratively at least. He’d taken to carrying most of them.   
  
The little ones… well, it seemed cruel to make them hop frantically to keep his pace. And even the larger ones were not very heavy. The largest one; the brown-grey rabbit with the damaged ear, seemed perfectly content hanging over his shoulders, occasionally nipping Thorin gently in his left ear when he wanted attention.  
  
That seemed to be what all the rabbits wanted. Their master plan, if they indeed had one, seemed to revolve around being petted as much as possible.

The question was _why_ thirteen rabbits appeared, literally out of nowhere, all with their hearts set on being petted as much as possible by the King Under the Mountain. Thorin had no good answer for that. Nor did it seem as if one was forthcoming from anyone else.  
  
It was not yet public news, but the rest of the company had been informed and were very eager to see the magical rabbits with their own eyes, much to Balin’s consternation and muttered protests about the dangers of doing just that. However no one listened to him as the rabbits were rabbits, and so it came to be that they all gathered for dinner together that night.

“Lighten up,” Bofur said and offered Balin the pot with boiled potatoes. “They’re just wee balls of fur. What are they going to do, choke us to death in our sleep by lying on our faces? I don’t want to imply anything, but didn’t you notice a certain increase of noise after most of the highly venerated members of this company here had fallen asleep while we were on the road? Most of us would just blow the critters away with our snoring. I can still hear Bom even though there’s a stone wall between our bedrooms.”

“Go on,” Dori said and held out a carrot stick to the second smallest rabbit, the smallest of the reddish ones. “You can at least try it.”  
  
The rabbit wrinkled it’s nose and turned its head away, but its expression brightened and its ears perked up as Ori offered it two potato chips, carefully brushed clean from salt.  
  
“Does that remind you of something?” Dwalin murmured to Thorin.  
  
It did. In fact, they all reminded Thorin of something, or rather, _someone_.  
  
The first one, the one so like their burglar, he had just been the most obvious, at least to Thorin.  
  
During that dinner, with his Company and Dís gathered around him, and bunnies snuggled up in different laps, occasionally looking towards him to make sure he hadn’t disappeared somewhere, it was quite easy to see that there appeared to be one bunny for each member of his Company. Except -  
  
“So,” Dwalin said, and elbowed Thorin in the side. “Where’s yours then?”  
  
Before Thorin could stop himself he glanced down and found the Bilbo-bunny lying in the crook of his arm, nibbling delicately on a broccoli floret. He had already eaten more than what had appeared to be his body weight of vegetables and Thorin wondered if all small, fluffy creatures with big feet needed to eat a frankly ridiculous number of meals every day.

“I meant the one who _looks_ like you,” Dwalin said, but he didn’t press Thorin for an answer; not that Thorin had one to give.  
  
-  
  
The last rabbit arrived late that evening, much later than the others, but in what only could be described as in a very timely fashion.

It would seem that Dís, Dwalin, and Dáin had a point after all about the need for guards, because as Thorin walked towards his chambers, much as he’d done the night before only now with four bunnies in his arms, four trailing after him, two in his pockets, one over each shoulder and one – the Bilbo one – persisting to sitting on his head, the shadows in front of him suddenly moved and a the light from a nearby torch caught the silver gleam of a dagger.  
  
“I am your _death_ , Thorin Oakenshield.”  
  
All the rabbits stiffened and some of them growled low in their tiny chests. The two guards behind Thorin called out, and he could hear the sound of swords being drawn, but this seemed to affect the unknown Dwarf about as much as the rabbits’ growls had as he or she kept approaching.

Thorin loosened his grip on the four rabbits, prepared drop them (he would apologise later) and draw Orcrist, but before he could make good of that plan the shadows moved again and the unknown Dwarf yelled out in surprise as something landed on their head.  
  
The newly arrived rabbit managed to kick the Dwarf in the face and bite them in the nose before it had retreat and hop down or risk being hurt as the dagger was now being swung wildly in an attempt to defend from the unidentified threat. A failed attempt it had to be said, as the Dwarf only managed to accidentally pull his own hood down and nick himself on the ear with the dagger.  
  
Cursing and hopping around to try and see his attacker, it was easy enough for the guards to grab him and wrestle the dagger from his grasp before he could do harm to anyone except himself with it.  
  
Seeing as things were under control, Thorin began to tilt his head down to look at the new rabbit, but the Bilbo-one squealed in protest and dug his claws into Thorin’s hair and scalp to keep from sliding off.   
  
Thorin winced and managed to free a hand so he could pick the bunny up by the loose skin at its neck. “I _told_ you it was not a good place to sit.”  
  
Bilbo bunny huffed and squirmed, clearly wanting to be put down on the floor. Not knowing if he could do so without accidentally dropping more rabbits Thorin instead gathered him up in his arms with the four he’d already been holding. He then looked down at the rabbit sitting at his feet; a dark brown or black, except for a hint of silver on its ears and feet.  
  
The rabbit looked back at him, and sniffed disdainfully.  
  
“Thank you,” Thorin said, and the rabbit nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More tomorrow!


	3. Thorin and the Bunnies. Chapter 3.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter has two marvellous pics made by Fishsicle.  
> http://fishsicle.tumblr.com/post/104578556022  
> If you've got tumblr please go and like and share and scream incoherently from the cute.

Captain Tauriel did not know what sort of magic that could and would produce fourteen very familiar looking rabbits, or so Kíli claimed, but she had a fairly good grasp on what rabbits should eat to remain healthy. Again, or so Kíli claimed, because not all of the rabbits seemed to agree with her view on things.  
  
To be precise, the Ori-bunny did not agree with her at all.  
  
Thorin did not blame it. But he had never known that a rabbit could have so many facial expressions conveying distaste.  
  
“She really said that they should eat grass? Like cattle?”  
  
The Ori-bunny ignored the collection of straws Kíli was offering him and instead pawed at Thorin’s foot until he was picked up. He was not quite as small as the rabbit which reminded Thorin of Bilbo, but it was a rather close thing, and the disgruntled rabbit fit without issue in the palm of Thorin’s hand.  
  
“She called it hay,” Kíli explained. “And said they should have branches to chew on. And vegetables too. But mostly the grass. Um, hay.”

The Ori-bunny looked pleadingly at Thorin, its pink little nose wobbling. Even knowing that rabbits could not burst out in tears in the same manner as Dwarflings could, Thorin was very much reminded of his nephews’ toddler years. He’d never attempted to have them eat grass, but the word ‘no’ had most definitely not been appreciated by either of them.

Thorin sighed and brushed his thumb over the Ori-rabbit’s side. “I think we should send a raven to that shape-shifter. There were rabbits on his lands. Let’s see if his information would match that of the Elf’s.”  
  
Kíli looked about to protest this, but then he glanced between the grass in his hand and the little Ori-rabbit’s heartbroken expression, and with a sigh of his own he instead bent down and offered the remaining straws to the Bifur-bunny who quite happily made them disappear.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt,” Kíli said, using his now free hands to pick up his namesake, holding it up in front of him. “Agreed?” He asked the rabbit, who seemed to shrug. Its nose then began to vibrate and it wriggled to get closer to Kíli’s chest, sniffing noisily all the while.  
  
It had managed to crawl half-way down Kíli’s tunic before he managed to stop it. Pulling the still squirming rabbit out of his clothes, Kíli gave Thorin an apologetic look.  
  
“Ta- Captain Tauriel gave me some kind of dried cakes which she said they would enjoy. She did not say they would enjoy it this much. No,” he added when the rabbit wouldn’t stay still and pawed at his tunic. “You will spoil your appetite.”  
  
As the Kíli-rabbit gave Kíli the Dwarf an absolutely woebegone look, brown eyes locked with brown, Kíli’s stern expression softened, and Thorin absently wondered if this was like having grandchildren. Seeing those you helped raise be swayed by the very same sort of look they once used against you seemed like that sort of thing that would fit that description.  
  
Kíli reached inside his tunic and produced a small brown biscuit and instantly he had a very rapt audience of twelve at his feet, their whiskers quivering with barely contained excitement.  
  
“No,” Kíli told them, even as he shifted his namesake to the crook of his arm to be able to bring out more of the biscuits.  
  
In Thorin’s palm the Ori-rabbit bumped his cheek against Thorin’s much too still thumb, and Thorin murmured an apology before continuing to pet it.  
  
If this was what having grandchildren was like it was… quite nice indeed.

-

Following the failed assassination, the rabbits were now considered a blessing from Mahal instead of a potential curse, although no one had seriously considered them a curse in the first place.  
  
Except maybe Balin.

He, out of sheer principle, _had_ to dislike things that he could not entirely understand and control. At least before he got used to them and understood that just because he couldn’t explain them did it have to mean that they were bad. Thorin was sure he’d come around, and evidence in fact suggested that he already had.  
  
Thorin snorted where he was sitting at his desk in his private chambers. Yes, he was not blind. He had seen Balin sneaking treats to the rabbits when he thought no one was looking.  
  
 _Everyone_ kept feeding the rabbits. Not just the Elven treats, but other things as well. Luckily the rabbits seemed to not only appreciate it, but to thrive on it.  
  
Bribery, Thorin called it. Or attempted bribery, with the intention to buy the love and devotion of the small four-legged creatures.  
  
He was not at all smug about how it wasn’t working.  
  
While they seemed to like other people well enough, and certainly didn’t object to the treats coming their way, the rabbits were quite firm in their belief that Thorin was the one they, for some reason, had adopted as their own.  
  
He wasn’t entirely sure what exactly the rabbits considered him to be to them, but there was no denying that they preferred to stay as close as possible to him.  
  
Wherever Thorin went, the rabbits would not be far behind, quite literally. Because if they believed that they were indeed too far away, they would soon use their strange magic to appear somewhere a lot closer.  
  
The second time the Dwalin-rabbit ended up in his bath; splashing into the water - only his ears above the surface when Thorin managed to grab hold of him - Thorin stopped closing the door to the bathing room.  
  
  
  
Being stared at by 14 rabbits while he bathed was much less annoying than having to fish them out of the water.

Not only was having fur in his water rather detrimental to getting clean, the sight of a wet rabbit was a tragic one indeed, and the Dwalin-rabbit had made for quite the pathetic sight both times it grumpily curled up in front of the fireplace to dry.

Besides, the King’s baths were certainly big enough for him and fourteen furballs of varying sizes. He was not entirely sure which of his ancestors he should hold responsible for such unnecessary extravagance, but the room was large enough for a dozen Dwarfs with room to spare.  
  
The sunken tub in marble was itself perhaps not quite large enough to house a dozen Dwarfs, but it felt ridiculously spacious for just one. Or even one plus a very disgruntled rabbit.  
  
But that only happened twice, and after Thorin began leaving the door open the rabbits were happy enough to arrange themselves around the edge of the tub so they could keep an eye on him. Except for the Bilbo-one, who made his feelings about baths quite clear by sulking on Thorin’s towel as the towel was always kept some distance away from the water.  
  
Usually when Thorin was ready to make use of the towel, the bunny seemed happy to make Thorin drip all over the floor for a good long while before it deigned to move away from its appropriated nest.  
  
He wasn’t sure if it kept him waiting from leftover disapproval concerning the concept of using water to clean oneself, or if the bunny, just as it’s the Hobbit it was named for, simply enjoyed making his life just a little more difficult than strictly necessary.  
  
To name only a few examples; there were the obvious ones like the incident with the Trolls, Bilbo’s disappearance inside the Goblin caves, the way his hair curled around those ridiculous ears of his, the way his eyes couldn’t seem to make up their mind and changed from blue to green depending on the light. The way his arse-  
  
Lost in his _contemplations_ , Thorin jumped as the sandy-gold rabbit that reminded him of Fíli nudged his foot. Having gotten his attention it promptly jumped up into his lap. A few second later the Kíli rabbit joined it, not bothering to ask for permission first.  
  
That seemed to have been a sign, because soon his lap was quite crowded indeed, even though the Dwalin-rabbit had climbed its way up to Thorin’s shoulders and a few of them had chosen to lie on his desk instead. The Bombur-one had stretched out on Thorin’s sock-clad feet, and was now snoring away.  
  
However, not all the rabbits were trying to find a space in his immediate presence.  
  
The large, fluffy rabbits that looked ever so much like Óin and Glóin; one white-grey and one a dark reddish-brown, seemed content to doze on the hearth, a safe distance away from any embers that might jump away from the burning logs. And…  
  
Thorin sighed.  
  
The little Bilbo-bunny had already fallen asleep next to the large black rabbit whose arrival had taken care of the assassin. The Bilbo-bunny was lying on its side, limbs in a loose sprawl, and as Thorin watched, the black rabbit gently rubbed its cheek against the top of the smaller rabbit’s head.  
  
Turning his attention back to the myriad of rabbits trying to fit on his lap Thorin sternly told himself that there was absolutely no reason why such an image should start an ache inside his chest.  
  
-  
  
That the rabbits were not what anyone would call ‘normal’ was apparent right from the start, and it kept getting more and more obvious with time.  
  
Even without their strange ability to move through space in the blink of an eye (or possibly the twitch of an ear), and their remarkable resemblance to his Company, they would still have been extraordinary simply because of their intelligence.  
  
But when it came to things that they did not _want_ to understand, they proved to be remarkably thick.

“I don’t recall inviting you all to my bed,” Thorin sighed, leaning against the headboard of his bed. “Just like I didn’t do it before either.”  
  
The bed was, quite literally, crawling with rabbits.

The Fíli-rabbit, having claimed the spot on Thorin’s shoulder normally occupied by the Dwalin-rabbit (with the result of Dwalin-rabbit having a bit of a sulk next to Thorin’s elbow) snuffled and gently nipped Thorin’s ear.

“I can’t sleep with all of you in the bed,” Thorin stated. “I told you before, you _will_ need to sleep elsewhere.”  
  
The Bilbo-bunny huffed with utmost disdain and stomped its foot against Thorin’s stomach.  
  
“If I accidentally lie on you during the night you will find yourself waking up as a flat rabbit,” Thorin warned. The tiny creature stomped its foot again, and it felt like being hit with a bit of cotton fluff.  
  
His own likeness in rabbit-form was somewhat more sturdy, and when it jumped up to perch on the hill created by Thorin’s slightly raised bent knees beneath his blankets, it was certainly noticeable. Like being hit with at least _three_ pieces of cotton fluff. Or maybe four.

Thorin felt his brows furrowing at the reproachful look he received from blue eyes.  
  
“Look,” he told it, gently gathering the Bilbo-rabbit up and holding him against his chest. Shifting his grip just slightly made the tiny rabbit disappear entirely behind his hand, and Thorin repeated the motion a few times. “You are _all_ very small, even if you’re not this small. If I were to roll over to lie on - will you _please_ stay _still_?” Thorin told the Kíli-rabbit as it, for the fourth time, raced around the bed, climbing over everyone in its path, and caused the Dori-rabbit to shift until it was protectively perched almost entirely on top of the Ori-rabbit.

As it came within grabbing distance, Thorin reached out with his free hand and caught the lanky dark rabbit by the scruff of its neck. A little shifting around and the Kíli-rabbit was arranged in the crook of Thorin’s arm, pressed against his side and held securely in place against by his arm over its soft belly.

“As I was saying-” Thorin began, pausing when the Bofur-rabbit hopped up to sit on his stomach. “As I was-”

The Bilbo-rabbit squirmed out from beneath his hand, crawling up to lie in the open V of his nightshirt. The soft fur tickled something fierce and Thorin writhed and quickly lifted him away.  
  
“ _No_ ,” he said, as sternly as he’d said anything. The Bilbo-rabbit did not looked cowed in the slightest and instead bumped its head against Thorin’s fingers, and again when Thorin did not immediately started to pet it.

“I am the King,” Thorin muttered darkly to himself, looking up at the ceiling. “This is not -”  
  
A small contemptuous sound caught his attention.  
  
The small pink tongue stood out very distinctly against the black fur of the rabbit. Blue eyes locked with blue, and Thorin stared at the rabbit that was supposed to be some version of him. The rabbit that was now sticking its tongue out at him.  
  
“I’ve never - That is - _Stop_ that.”

It did. But only after a few more moments had passed. And the manner in which it retracted its tongue suggested it was not doing it because Thorin had commanded it but because it chose to.  
  
“There is no _need_ for you all to be in my bed,” Thorin said between gritted teeth.  
  
As one, the rabbits on the bed snorted. Except for the Bifur-one as it had already fallen asleep, looking ever so much like a small dark-white-grey rug where it was lying over Thorin’s legs.

“Glóin and Óin are not in the bed,” Thorin argued. “And they’re perfectly -”

The two rabbits which had previously been lying on top of the same chair the Bilbo-rabbit had first appeared in were now suddenly lying on the bed after all.

“It was not a complaint,” Thorin gritted out.  
  
-  
  
The fire had almost burned down to embers when Thorin gave up on having a bunny-less bed.

“Fine! But do not blame me when you get pressed flatter than an Elven chest. That goes for all of you.”

The Bilbo-bunny sighed, but it did not seem upset as bumped its head against Thorin’s fingers. He was the only one who replied in any way, the others appearing to have forgotten how to use their over-sized ears. Or, Thorin was forced to admit, perhaps they had stopped listening to him some time ago. It was after all not the first time he tried to get them out of his bed, and so far it had never worked.  
  
Beneath Thorin’s left arm Kíli-rabbit squirmed one final time before going lax , and on Thorin’s shoulder the Fíli rabbit’s breaths were already slow and steady (though still quicker than Thorin’s own), and it’s small body had grown heavy with sleep. Heavier, at least, because the weight was still a trifle.  
  
Bofur-rabbit had managed to fit itself quite snugly between Thorin’s arm - the same holding Kíli-rabbit in place - and his side, and it was making low, pleased noises as its ears drooped more and more with each passing moment.  
  
Around the bed, the other rabbits had all settled down as well.

The little Ori-rabbit had finally been allowed to emerge from underneath Dori-rabbit and was now lying between Dwalin-rabbit and Nori-rabbit who formed an uneven circle around it. Dori-rabbit had padded over to curl up with the Bifur- and-Balin-rabbits, lying mostly on top of them. But as they were larger than the Ori-rabbit, it did not manage quite so well in hiding them away, if that had been its intention.  
  
The Glóin- and Óin-rabbits were curled up together, snoring surprisingly loudly. And not far from them the Bombur-rabbit was lying on his back, paws sticking straight up towards the ceiling, its snores joining theirs.

The Bilbo-bunny stretched and yawned before sluggishly moving up Thorin’s chest to press its nose against Thorin’s jaw. Yawning again it then before wandered down to curl up on his chest, over his heart.

Thorin sighed and lifted his hand to curl protectively around the small creature. He met the blue eyes of _his_ rabbit.

“Good night.”  
  
The rabbit grunted, but it was a soft sleepy sound.  
  
-

As they were quite determined to follow Thorin everywhere and anywhere, it was impossible to keep the rabbits’ existence a secret.

He did not bother to listen for the gossip that undeniably had to be making its way around the mountain, but he was not so fortunate in being able to ignore his sister.

-  
  
“My brother, Thorin Oakenshield, reclaimer of Erebor, King under the Mountain, killer of Azog the Defiler, _and_ broody bunny collector.”  
  
“And blessed beyond all blessings by being your brother, I’m sure,” Thorin said, raising his arm just a little to stop the bunnies in his lap from sliding down. They’d all turned towards the door as Dís had knocked, and upon realising who it was, the Fíli- and-Kíli-rabbits had scrambled down, almost bringing Ori-bunny with them due to their enthusiasm.  
  
“Hello my darlings,” she said, bending to brush her fingers over glossy fur as they stopped at her feet. “Are you being good for Uncle Thorin?”  
  
“They are not actually your sons,” Thorin pointed out. “Nor my nephews. They’re rabbits.”  
  
“Indeed they are rabbits,” Dís agreed, straightening back up. “You realise that if you hadn’t reclaimed Erebor and made yourself such a hero, our people would likely have made protests over their King’s sudden fascination for four-legged fluff balls.” She snickered. “I know there are those on the council who doubts that they are a blessing from Mahal, and would vote that we see the next winter equipped with some new fur lined mittens.”  
  
A collective grumbling protest was made by the rabbits.  
  
“Like I’d let them,” Dís soothed and quite uncaring about the state of her dress she sat down on the floor and let the blond and dark-furred rabbit climb up into her lap. “Is your Uncle neglecting you my poor darlings?”  
  
“I’m _not_ their uncle,” Thorin sighed. Two pairs of eyes turned his way, one blue and one brown but equally accusing.  
  
“Don’t listen to him, sweetlings, he’s just being grumpy.”

“Dís…”  
  
“Yes?” she asked, smiling widely as the Kíli-rabbit flopped down on its side, presenting its belly for pets. “Are you about to deny that you’re grumpy? Because I won’t believe you.”  
  
“You are being quite ridiculous.”  
  
“Says he who has begun collecting rabbits.”  
  
“I’m hardly collecting them,” Thorin protested. “They just showed up. And they won’t go away.”  
  
“Do you want them to go away then?” Dís asks, and Thorin looked down at his lapful of rabbits, all who looked back up at him, more than one nose twitching anxiously.  
  
“No,” Thorin said finally. “But if they could stop leaving tufts of fur between my sheets -”  
  
Dís cut-off his complaints by snorting. “They sleep in the bed?”  
  
Thorin clamped his mouth shut, glaring at the Kíli-bunny when it nodded.  
  
Dís snorted again and ran her fingers down its dark silky ears. “So, they’re staying then?”  
  
“Yes,” Thorin agreed, as the Bilbo-bunny nudged his hand to remind him that he was no longer fulfilling his petting duties. “It seems that they are.”


	4. Thorin and the Bunnies. Chapter 4.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for temporary angst.

As Thorin opened the door out to the hallway the Bilbo-bunny and the large black one (and no, Thorin was still not entirely comfortable by having to share his name with a rabbit, it was _unnerving_ ) trotted out first.  
  
The guards outside bowed their heads politely, and if Thorin wasn’t mistaken, one of them just barely bit back a ‘Your Majesty’ aimed at the larger of the two rabbits.  
  
In a way it was rather refreshing that many members of the council did not at _all_ favour the rabbits.  
  
Thorin was fairly sure he would not at all have enjoyed sitting through assemblies where people would ask a rabbit’s council as much as they would seek his.  
  
Magical they may be, and intelligent as well, but they were still merely animals. Thorin had seen them get into physical fights over a particularly tasty bit of grass (or so he assumed as he’d not tasted it for himself) and it was entirely ridiculous. Not to mention… well… There’d been more than one occasion where Thorin had observed a few of the rabbits eating their own droppings.  
  
The less said about it the better, and to each their own (Dwalin had told him how Hobbits apparently ate mouldy cheese). But it certainly proved that regardless of how unusual they might seem, there was still a core of the animals which remained as that of any other rabbit.

Thorin waited as the guards held open the door, allowing the rabbits to pile out. As they did so, the light and dark rabbit waited on each side of the door, appearing to keep count to make sure no one was forgotten inside. Thorin had no idea why they bothered. Not only had he already made sure everyone was accounted for - and he would consider his own grasp on arithmetic to be better than that belonging to a rabbit - but even _if_ someone had decided to sleep in they could just magic themselves across the city if they so pleased.

Or so he supposed. It was a theory that had never been tested. The rabbits’ original reaction as they’d been about to be separated from him had been enough to last him a life time.

When everyone was outside and accounted for, the smaller ones gathered at Thorin’s feet to be lifted up and tucked into pockets or otherwise carried to their destination. The Dwalin one waited patiently as well, wanting to be draped over Thorin’s shoulder so he could play at being a fur collar.  
  
By this point it was routine. Thorin knew who preferred which pocket and who wanted to be settled in the crook of his arm.

Once everyone was sorted out, Thorin began the walk towards the throne room.

“Sire,” one of the guards; the taller of the two, said politely. “May I propose a humble thought regarding the rabbits?”  
  
“Speak,” Thorin agreed.  
  
“Have you considered having collars fashioned for them? I know it’s something the Men have for their dogs, and I thought it would suit.”  
  
“The idea did occur to me,” Thorin said and sighed. “However the Princess Dís was quick to disabuse me of the notion that it was a _good_ idea.”  
  
The guard looked confused. “The Princess did not like it?”  
  
“It was not that as much as how she possessed knowledge that I did not. Rabbits have fragile necks, and delicate bones and spines. If the collars were to get stuck on something they could snap their own necks trying to get loose.”  
  
“Forgive me,” the guard apologised, looking mildly horrified. “I did not mean -”  
  
Thorin waved the apology away. “No harm was done. And as I said, it was my thought as well.”  
  
“Could they not just -” the other guard turned around and waved his hand in a quick, rough circle. “Disappear and reappear if they got stuck?”  
  
Thinking back to Dwalin-rabbit’s issues when finding himself in the tub, and how he’d needed to be lifted out instead of getting out on his own, Thorin snorted and shook his head. “They are rabbits. I do not think they are able to keep a level head under pressure.”

There was some muffled grumbling from his breast pocket, where the Bilbo-bunny resided, and Thorin patted the outside of it with his free hand.

“Do you deny it?”

More grumbling.  
  
“I thought not.”  
  
It was a shame about the collars. He had already begun thinking about which design each would have; what kind of metals and what stones would be inlaid in the leather he’d considered using as the base. How the -  
  
Thorin’s attention was yanked back to the present when the doors to Fíli’ and Kíli’s chambers were slammed open, perfectly in sync. Thorin sometimes wondered if they _practiced_ to achieve such effects, but he rather thought not.  
  
They’d been like that ever since Kíli was old enough to follow Fíli around like a duckling followed its mother. Or, Thorin supposed like _he_ was being followed by rabbits these days.  
  
“Good morning Uncle!” they chorused, and Thorin didn’t miss how they included both him and a certain rabbit in that greeting, nor how their grins widened when they noticed that he had noticed. Brats.  
  
“Good morning,” Thorin said, smiling slightly when small cheerful noises came from most of the rabbits.  
  
“Morning everyone,” Kíli said and crouched down to pet the two rabbits closest to him, the Nori-and-Dori ones. “Please tell me that today is the day you will finally decide to avoid the stuffy old people on the council and instead accompany us on a day full of fun and adventure!”  
  
“There will be salad,” Fíli promised solemnly. “Join us, small friends.”  
  
The Dori- and Nori-bunnies looked at each other and then back at Kíli before they shook their heads.

“It’s not fair,” Kíli complained. “Why do they like you best anyway?”  
  
However he did not stop the slow gentle strokes down the rabbits’ backs, much to the pair’s delight.

“If they are amenable, you can carry them until we’ve reached our destination,” Thorin suggested. “And then perhaps you can stay for today’s council as well?”  
  
“Um,” Kíli said, freezing.  
  
“Well,” Fíli said, taking a step backwards. “We would. Of course we would.”  
  
“But we just remembered that we’d promised mum to -”  
  
“Help her.”  
  
“Yes,” Kíli said as he straightened back up. “With something _important_.”  
  
“ _Very_ important.”  
  
“Our sincere regrets.”  
  
And with one last pet, and two quick bows in Thorin’s direction, they disappeared down the hall.  
  
“I present to you the princes of Erebor,” Thorin murmured, more amused than anything else. He could not exactly fault them for not wanting to spend their day around a table with people who’d argue with you for the sake of arguing. Mahal willing they’d have plenty of time to play still before they needed to grow up.

“I guess it wouldn’t be proper for _us_ to carry the little ones,” one of the guards said with a wistful glance down at the rabbits still on the floor.  
  
-  
  
“Where’s the you-rabbit?” Dís asked as they were making their way from the council chamber to the main dining hall. “He was here just a moment ago.”  
  
Thorin looked down on the floor, eyes flitting from rabbit to rabbit. Indeed, the dark rabbit was nowhere to be seen.  
  
In Thorin’s front pocket, a tiny sigh escaped the Bilbo-bunny and when Thorin looked down at it, it had curled up in a small sad-looking ball.  
  
That was the start.  
  
-  
  
The next few days were absolutely terrible.  
  
Not the worst of Thorin’s life, no, there was too much stiff competition for that. Days involving too much death, Dragons, and despair for three lifetimes. But to learn how that first disappearance was indeed a disappearance was tough. And indeed, it was only the beginning.  
  
The rabbits looking like his nephews disappeared during that night and in the morning they were no longer in Thorin’s chambers. If it hadn’t been for three of the rabbits disappearing right in front of Thorin’s eyes as he searched his chambers for any trace of the missing ones it was quite possible that Erebor would have been searched from dungeon to watchtowers in the attempt to find the culprit responsible.  
  
As things stood, it seemed as if no one was responsible.  
  
The rabbits simply… disappeared. As suddenly as they’d once arrived.  
  
To say that this affected Thorin’s temper would not be an exaggeration. But there was nothing to do about it. No one could offer any suggestions where the rabbits had gone, just as no one had managed to figure out where they’d come from in the first place.  
  
Captain Tauriel still claimed to know close to nothing about rabbit related magic, causing Thorin to make more than one comment about the uselessness of Elves, and while one of Erebor’s rare magic users managed to summon a very confused looking hedgehog (that stuck around for a few hours before disappearing again) the missing rabbits remained missing.  
  
Thorin had a feeling that now he’d truly turned into the bunny-hoarder Fíli and Kíli had teasingly named him as, because he did not let the furry critters out of his sight.

Unfortunately… it did not help.  
  
One by one, the rabbits vanished. Until there was a single one left.

“Don’t go,” Thorin said quietly, gently cupping his hand over the back of the little Bilbo-rabbit. “I’d very much like it if you stayed with me.”  
  
The Bilbo-one did not seem frightened of what was happening. A little sad perhaps. None of the others had seemed worried either. In fact Thorin was sure that they’d all tried to comfort _him_ , just as the Bilbo-one was doing now.  
  
It kept making small, low cooing sounds, occasionally stopping to lick Thorin’s thumb or to bump its nose against it.  
  
“Won’t you stay?” Thorin asked. “Please?”  
  
The rabbit sighed and rubbed its chin against Thorin’s chest. It closed its eyes and sighed again, and then-  
  
Thorin’s fist clenched down on empty air, and he closed his eyes as well.  
  
Well then. Now he knew. Actually saying the words instead of just thinking them made no difference after all.

-  
  
A couple of months later a knock on the door made Thorin lift his gaze from the book he’d been busy not-reading, and he opened his mouth to declare his lack of interest with any visitors (though if it was Dís he suspected that she would not care) but before he could get the chance the door opened.

“Thorin!” Bofur tumbled through the door as soon as it’d been opened. He was waving a large sheet of paper around as if using it to ward off a swarm of particularly nasty bees. “Thorin, you’ve got to read this. It’s from Bilbo. Read it, but skip to the end.”  
  
Entirely forgetting his annoyance with the guards for letting someone in without his approval Thorin rose from his chair, book falling forgotten to the floor.  
  
“Is he - he is well?”  
  
Bofur pressed the letter into Thorin’s hands even as he shook his head. “He’s fine, but you _really_ need to read this. It’s about the rabbits.”  
  
Despite what Bofur had told him, Thorin couldn’t help but quickly eye through the rest of the letter as well, because as worried as he was about the rabbits he was also greedy for any news about Bilbo, and it wasn’t like Bilbo would know anything pertinent to the rabbits anyway. How could he?  
  
The letter was cheerful and mostly full of bits of gossip about people Thorin had no idea who they were or why Bilbo might consider them important enough to mention, as well as a reply to a discussion between him and Bofur about the merits mushrooms that must have begun in a much earlier letter.  
  
After a while Thorin came upon a part of the letter that made him blink and start the section over again.

-

_Bofur, you will not believe what has happened._  
  
_Yesterday I walked outside to tend to my vegetables when I discovered a large rabbit sitting just outside my back door. It paid no attention to me beyond the slightly disdainful look it gave me when I informed it that it should not even begin to entertain the idea of having a nibble on my lettuce, and while I was still scolding it, it decided to invite itself inside._

_This you might think is quite strange enough, but there is more to come._  
  
_The rabbit refused to leave my side for the rest of the day, and this morning, when I opened my wardrobe, I found two additional rabbits sleeping on a nest they had made of my second best pair of trousers._  
  
_Ah, now you must think: yes, that is quite strange indeed. And I agree, it most definitely is. But perhaps still not as strange as who the rabbits remind me off._  
  
_The first one is a dark, dark brown close enough to black that it might as well be black, its fur streaked with silver, mostly on its ears, and with pale blue eyes._  
  
_And the two other ones… One with big brown eyes and dark fur that looks like it would benefit from a comb, and the other one with fur like ripe wheat and with blue eyes, more often than not with a sly look in them._  
  
_Sound familiar? I would rather hope that it does, or I will fear I’ve entirely lost what little sense I had left._  
  
_If you do know what I’m talking about, would you mind terribly to write back and assure me that no one is currently… missing. If they are… well, you know where to find me, and I would suggest trying to stumble over Gandalf on the way here._  
  
_Give everyone my best, and take care of yourself and the others until we might next meet._

_Bilbo_

- _  
_  
Thorin looked up and met Bofur’s eyes.  
  
“They’re in the _Shire_ ,” Bofur said. “By now the others are there as well I wager. It’s - that has to be it. Where they’d disappeared to.”

“I agree,” Thorin said, quite calmly considering the way his thoughts were racing about in his mind. “It does indeed appear to be so.”  
  
“What are we going to do?”  
  
Thorin thought back to how it’d felt to watch the Bilbo-bunny disappear in front of his eyes. One moment there, and the other not. All of them gone.  
  
From that feeling it was an infinitely small step to what it had been like to watch from the battlements as the tiny figure of Bilbo made his way on ponyback from Erebor down to Dale.  
  
So many things left unsaid.  
  
“We will do what Dwarfs do best.”  
  
Bofur looked sceptical. “While I understand the ‘why’, I really don’t think getting drunk will help in this particular matter.”  
  
Thorin snorted and clasped his hand to Bofur’s shoulder. “No. I meant that we’ll find a way.”  
  
“Would this way be going west?”  
  
“Indeed it would,” Thorin nodded, and Bofur’s eyes brightened until they seemed almost as green as the hills of the Shire.


	5. Bilbo and the Bunnies. Chapter 1.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second part of the story, Bilbo and the Bunnies. Or: _And see what happens._
> 
>  
> 
> _“Hallo, Rabbit,” he said, “is that you?”_  
>  “Let’s pretend it isn’t,” said Rabbit, “and see what happens.”  
> ― A.A. Milne

“Oh no,” Bilbo said and put his hands on his hips. “You will leave my vegetables alone.”

The rabbit looked… disdainful? Maybe it was actually a hare? Not because of the air of disdain, no, but it was certainly big enough for a hare. Though the feet were smaller than Bilbo would have expected. 

The rabbit was black- no, brown, a dark brown. With some silver grey on its ears, and feet, and the eyes that housed that condescending stare were a pretty pale blue.  
  
Still, regardless how pretty, it best leave his lettuce and carrots alone, and Eru have mercy on it if it went for the tomato plants.  
  
While Bilbo took care to inform the rabbit about his proficiency with a broom, the rabbit sighed and proceeded to hop through the open door and into the smial. Bilbo had no vegetables inside whose lives would be threatened by the sudden appearance of a rabbit, but he felt that  _this_ was _not_ the way you solved the problem of having an uninvited rabbit in your garden.  
  
“I don’t recall inviting you in,” Bilbo muttered as he followed the rabbit as it quickly hopped through the tiny hall Bilbo used for storage for things that he didn’t know where else to put,  and into the main hallway.   
  
He caught up with it as it was about to hop into the kitchen.   
  
“If you think about scratching or biting me -” Bilbo told it as he scooped it up the best as he could. It was heavier than he thought, and he needed both arms to hold it. “- I’ll have you know I’ve a sword as well as a broom, and I’ve fought both Orcs and Wargs and -”  
  
The rabbit made a happy noise and bopped its nose against Bilbo’s. As it turned its head to the side to snuggle up against him, its long silvery whiskers brushed against Bilbo’s cheek, causing him to twitch from the tickle.

“That’s indeed not biting,” Bilbo said slowly.  
  
The rabbit ignored him, sighing contently before going entirely limp, almost causing Bilbo to lose his hold and drop it.  
  
-  
  
The rabbit did not protest at being carried outside, it was busy making an odd sort of purring sound, but it _did_ complain as Bilbo put it down.  
  
Back on the ground again, it stared up at him, and now the look was  _definitely_ disapproving.   
  
“I’m not going to carry y - _no_.” Bilbo shook his head. “What I’m not going to do is to have an argument with a _rabbit_.”  
  
A series of small grumpy noises came from the creature, and then it tried to hop back inside. Bilbo put his foot up. The rabbit gave him a  _look_ , then proceeded to jump _over_ his foot and back inside the smial, dark little tail defiantly raised.  
  
“There aren’t even any vegetables inside!” Bilbo called after it.  
  
-

Attempt two and three to get the rabbit back outside failed just as miserably as the first. There was no fourth attempt, because Bilbo had begun to think that the only thing he was accomplishing was to  _amuse_  his furry trespasser.

When he’d brandished the broom, rather threateningly if he would say so himself, he could have sworn that the smug little (well, not that little) thing had snorted. He’d had no intention of actually hitting it, but it couldn’t  _know_  that.  
  
“Fine,” Bilbo said and put the broom away. Glaring down at the rabbit he folded his arms across his chest. “Fine!” With that he walked to the door, and once he was on the other side of it he shut it, trapping the rabbit inside Bag End.  
  
He’d changed his mind, this _was_ how you solved the problem of a rabbit in your garden after all.  
  
It wasn’t something he would have done before agreeing to go on an adventure half-way across the world, but after almost dying half a dozen times – maybe more – Bilbo didn’t much care what sort of damage a rabbit could do to his possessions. After all they were just things. (Most of them anyway. But there was no way it would manage to get into his mother’s glory box and disturb the things he’d hidden away there in it.)  
  
His lettuce on the other hand, that was a matter of personal pride. This year he was going to have the biggest heads in all the Shire, just like he’d been planning before Gandalf had come around talking about adventures. And then - then he’d have the biggest lettuce heads in all the Shire. Which... was good. Yes. It was good, and normal, and that was what he wanted, so that was what he was going to _have_.  
  
-

As he weeded, a feeling of being watched gradually crept over Bilbo, and once it became too much to ignore he looked up.

“Oh _no_. How long have you been there?” Bilbo asked accusingly, staring at the black rabbit lounging on the garden path. “If you’ve dug a hole in my smial to get out I  _will_  get the broom again, don’t think I won’t.”  
  
The rabbit sniffed.   
  
“And I will use it this time,” Bilbo warned.  
  
The rabbit lifted a leg and scratched its ear. Then it casually got up, but instead of jumping away like Bilbo expected it to, it jumped up to him and proceeded to lie down on his feet.  
  
“This is not going to stop me from walking inside and finding out what you did,” Bilbo said sternly, nudging it with his toes.  
  
The rabbit’s response was to start that strange purring sound once more.  
  
Maybe brooms only seemed threatening to dust bunnies…  
  
-  
  
Bilbo couldn’t find a hole. But there  _had_ to be one, how else could the rabbit have gotten back outside? None of the windows had been open, and the doors most certainly hadn’t been either, but he couldn’t find a hole.  
  
This should have been his first major clue that something strange was going on. But failing to pick up on it, Bilbo instead spent most of the afternoon inspecting every corner, nook and cranny of Bag End, mostly while crawling on all fours, _whilst_ being followed around by a large rabbit that complained quite loudly if he went too long without paying attention to it.  
  
As evening fell, Bilbo gave up on his attempt to find the rabbit escape tunnel and brushed the dust off his knees. He really needed to do a proper spring cleaning, get everything nice and tidy. It wouldn’t do to leave a mess. Not that he was going anywhere. But -

“Are you hungry?” Bilbo asked the rabbit, both searching for something new to occupy his mind with, and thinking that if he fed it, it might leave his garden alone.  
  
Ignoring the little voice inside his head (sounding suspiciously like his father) which was telling him that if he fed something, he’d never be rid of it, Bilbo trotted into the kitchen.   
  
A kitchen that had fed more than a dozen Dwarfs, none of which were around now. Hah. His father didn’t always know what he was talking about.  
  
The rabbit, of course, followed, and then true to the form it had showed thus far, proceeded to get in the way of everything Bilbo tried to do.  
  
“You don’t have the right to complain,” Bilbo told it as it started to make grumpy little noises after he’d nudged it away with his foot for the umpteenth time. “You are an uninvited guest, one I will be feeding against my better knowledge, and you’re in my kitchen, getting in _my_ way. Here -”  
  
Bending down he picked it up and plunked it down in the metal basin he used to soak the dishes in, which for the record was entirely dry and devoid of dishes, dirty or otherwise.  
  
“Stay there.”  
  
He couldn’t even pretend to be surprised when the rabbit didn’t listen to him. Just as he couldn’t help but to be amused at the attempts to get out of the basin.  
  
The rabbit was big enough to get its front paws over the edge without issue, but its back legs couldn’t find purchase on the smooth metal surface, so trying to get out made it seem like it was doing a little fast-paced dance.  
  
The look it shot him when he giggled was lethal, and it only made Bilbo snicker harder.  
  
Finally the rabbit got out, and proceeded to curl up in a sulky fluffy ball on the counter, observing Bilbo with an air of gravely injured pride.  
  
Though when Bilbo reached out, it sulkily allowed him to brush his fingers over its silky smooth ears.  
  
-  
  
The rabbit stayed on the counter for its dinner, which was a bowl of vegetables; mostly leafy greens as those were the ones who had grown enough to be harvested. It kept making eyes at Bilbo’s potatoes, but Bilbo was not going to fool for that.  
  
“Potatoes are not good for you,” Bilbo pointed out and offered it a piece of carrot instead. “Too much starch.”  
  
The rabbit made a disgruntled noise, but it did accept the carrot.  
  
-  
  
After dinner Bilbo tidied up (without any rabbits getting wet in the process) and then he decided to get a fire started. It wasn’t needed for the warmth; already the spring nights were rather warm, but after so many nights only barely able to keep warm, a nice fire was the sort of luxury that Bilbo hadn’t quite gotten used to just yet. And perhaps he never would, considering the amount of time that had passed since his return to the Shire. A year went by so fast. And so slow at the same time.

“If you’d like to keep your fur, you’ll stay well away from the fireplace,” Bilbo warned the rabbit as he built the fire with a skill he’d not possessed before Bofur had taught him all the best tricks to making a camp fire.  
  
The dry kindling caught on fire at once, which was no surprise as Bilbo used matches instead of flint and tinder. Matches was not to be relied upon on the road as they were useless if they got wet, but if it started to rain inside of Bag End then things would be dire indeed.  
  
Studiously avoiding his writing desk, Bilbo instead settled in to do a bit of reading. This the rabbit did not appreciate at all.

When it nibbled on one of Bilbo’s toes as revenge for being ignored Bilbo decided that enough was enough.  
  
“I will give you two options.”  
  
One long ear twitched.  
  
“Stay still, or go outside.”  
  
The challenge had been issued, and a tense silence descended on the sitting room. It was broken when Bilbo oofed due to suddenly having a lapful of rabbit.  
  
“You’re lying on my book.”  
  
The rabbit looked entirely unapologetic, and stayed perfectly still.

-  
  
It was a little petty, but Bilbo took some satisfaction later that evening when he bid the rabbit a firm “Good night!” and pointedly closed his bedroom door right in front of it’s pink little nose.

However… He’d been in bed for hardly any time at all when he heard a sound that had become more and more familiar over the course of the day. The sound of small, hard claws against the floorboards.

Peering over the edge of the bed; having to squint because of the dark, Bilbo sighed when he saw the rabbit; the silver on its ears caught the little bit of light coming from outside.   
  
“I  _know_ that door is closed. As in not open. As in how in the world did you get in here?”  
  
Unsurprisingly, an answer was not forthcoming. Instead the rabbit jumped up on the bed and curled up at the foot of it.  
  
Seeing as it was entirely too late to argue with a rabbit, not to mention that Bilbo had decided that he should not argue with rabbits in the first place, the Hobbit simply sighed again and nestled back down against his pillows.  
  
No sooner had he closed his eyes before there was a quiet rustling sound. As he opened his eyes, Bilbo discovered the rabbit lying a whole lot closer than it had just moments before.  
  
Closing his eyes once more Bilbo rolled to his side.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” he muttered, cracking his eyes open just enough to glare at his little uninvited guest, now lying even closer, looking particularly innocent.  
  
The rabbit’s ears twitched.

  
-  
  
The next morning Bilbo woke up with the rabbit snuggled up against his side.  
  
Sometime during the night Bilbo had put his arms around it and the rabbit had hidden its nose against his chest.

It was rather… nice really. The rabbit seemed to still be asleep, it’s breathing soft and steady even though Bilbo could feel its little heart thud away at a rapid pace.  
  
Yes, quite nice, Bilbo thought as the rabbit stirred and stretched, turning around to look at him with sleepy blue eyes. And… strangely familiar. But… at the same time not. Strange.  
  
The rabbit yawned and sluggishly managed to arrange itself in a sitting position. This meant that its head was higher up than Bilbo’s, and as it was blearily peering down at him Bilbo was struck by another wave of familiarity, but before he could quite work out what the situation reminded him of, the rabbit made a small sleepy noise and jumped up to lie across Bilbo’s stomach; head on one end, hind legs hanging out over the other.  
  
“That can’t be comfortable,” Bilbo said as his hand started stroking over the rabbit’s back, entirely without asking his brain for permission first.  
  
Judging by the way the rabbit appeared to melt into his stomach, it was indeed very comfortable. Not so much for Bilbo as he needed to take care of some urgent business that would make a mess out of the bed if ignored. The rabbit pressing down on his bladder had only highlighted the problem.  
  
Leaving a disgruntled rabbit on the bed, Bilbo went to grab his dressing gown hanging from its hook on the outside of the wardrobe, but when he was a step away he heard a small squeaky noise coming from _inside_ of it.

“This is  _not_  normal,” Bilbo declared as he opened his wardrobe.  
  
The two rabbits; one dark, one a sandy-gold colour, sitting inside the closet blinked up at him, ears and noses twitching. Then they nodded up at him before making a friendly little grunting sound in unison.  
  
“Not normal at _all_.”


	6. Bilbo and the Bunnies. Chapter 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't miss the art!! :)

There were no holes, tunnels and not even a scratch in the closet either. Or on it. Or anywhere.  
  
Anywhere Bilbo could find at least.  
  
Which meant that he spent almost an hour of that morning wondering how it was possible for rabbits to keep appearing in places that they were not supposed to be able to appear in.  
  
Finally he had a conclusion, and that conclusion was spelt MAGIC. Or to narrow it down, possibly _Gandalf_ , but as that was a little unfair Bilbo settled with ‘magic’ for the time being. (It could be Radagast after all.)  
  
But it went without saying that he would not be at all surprised if it did turn out to be Gandalf’s fault.  
  
For some reason it seemed like the sort of thing he’d find amusing. Mainly because Bilbo didn’t really find it amusing at all.  
  
Because once Bilbo had opened the door to _MAGIC_ being the explanation… he realised why the rabbits seemed so familiar to him. Because it wasn’t just the first one, no, indeed not.  
  
It had become obvious to him as he’d watched the rabbits together. Starting out as just an inkling, and then…  
  
The first rabbit, the larger of the two dark ones, had been in the middle of scolding the two other ones (Bilbo didn’t speak Rabbit, but that was what it had looked like anyway) after the pair of them had fallen into the barrel with rain water Bilbo kept in the garden.  
  
Eru only knew how and _why_ they’d gotten on top of it in the first place.  
  
The lid had only been partially covering the barrel; it had rained the day before yesterday and Bilbo probably would have covered it up properly after that had he not been distracted each and every time he’d gone out in the garden the day before. Anyway, it had not been properly secured.  
  
Bilbo had been checking to make sure no rabbits had eaten his poor vegetables during the night when he’d heard a large splash, and looking up he’d seen the large dark rabbit frantically pawing at the barrel.

Fishing up the two other ones had earned Bilbo a few scratches on his arms, but he didn’t blame the poor things. They’d looked downright miserable as he’d carried them inside and settled them in front of the hearth in the kitchen; the larger rabbit following anxiously behind.  
  
Then, after Bilbo made sure to get the fire going again, he turned his attention back to the pair of sodden furballs, only to find that the admonishing that he’d been planning on giving already appeared to be on its way.

The two rabbits’ drooping ears drooped further as they by all accounts reprimanded quite severely by the larger rabbit. It wasn’t a _loud_ scolding, bit it appeared to be a thorough one. It… it made Bilbo think that it all seemed awfully familiar.  
  
Big brown soulful brown eyes, apologetic blue ones, lowered heads; one golden and shiny, one dark and and in need of a comb, disappointed looks from pale blue eyes…

_‘You almost got us all eaten by Trolls.’_

“Thorin?” Bilbo breathed, and all the rabbits turned around. But only one of them moved towards him. Only one had pale blue eyes and dark fur with flecks of silver. “Thorin? No, it can’t -”

It couldn’t.

Could it?

It couldn’t.

“No, that’s not possible,” Bilbo murmured to himself.

The pale-gold coloured rabbit sneezed, startling the smaller of the dark ones enough that it tumbled backwards, and almost ended up falling into the stove. It made the larger one snap its head back, and once he saw that there was no danger it, he (?) sighed; a great heaving sigh. The sort of sigh Bilbo was very familiar with, he’d heard it aimed at himself often enough.

“It’s not possible but… I think I’ll finish my letter to Bofur today. Just in case,” Bilbo concluded, running a hand that did not tremble (at all) through his curls.

-

Finishing the letter was actually something of a challenge, partially because putting down in words that he might have the King of Erebor and both the princes living with him as rabbits sounded entirely mad, and partially because the rabbits in question kept interrupting him: jumping up on the desk and making him scramble to save the letter before it turned into just one rabbit shaped ink stain.

Finally, he was done, and after sealing the letter he now only needed to go down to the market to find someone who would take it to Bree, and then hopefully there’d be a ranger heading east. The postal service was a little unreliable at best. So if Thorin and the boys really were missing from Erebor… then there was no reason why Bilbo would have heard about it. And it would be some time before anyone could confirm it.

“You’d tell me if you were really Dwarfs, wouldn’t you?” he asked the three rabbits piled up on top of his feet. His reply was two soft snores, from the pair of smaller rabbits, and a disdainful look from the larger one. Bilbo wasn’t sure how to interpret it. It could be a ‘of course we’re not Dwarfs’-look, but it could just as easily be ‘of course it’s us, Bilbo, do something about it’-look.

-

Walking down to the market whilst being followed by rabbits was a novel experience. And not only rabbits, children too.

Rabbits seemed to be the ultimate way of luring children away from their parents.

Bilbo liked children well enough, but having twenty of them following him around was a little unsettling. And their parents were no help at all. Really. Instead of calling their children back home they went inside to bring out any remaining children, telling them to “Look at the adorable bunnies, sweetheart!

It made Bilbo a little wistful for Dwarven suspicion. Sure, they’d probably arrest him, but if he asked nicely he was also rather sure they’d post his letter for him. (Possibly after reading it, because polite they were not.)

The rabbits were even less helpful than the parents, graciously suffering through being petted by sticky hands, charming everyone around them, and only breaking away from their admirers when Bilbo got a little too far away. At least… the two – oh damn it all – at least Fíli and Kíli did this, Thorin on the other hand preferred to stay closer, close enough that Bilbo almost tripped over him with every other step.

“I’m not carrying you,” Bilbo hissed. “If you’re Thorin, I’ve watched you walk across half the damned world. If you’re a rabbit, you were born with four legs, learn how to use them.”

Surely Thorin had never given him this many disdainful look in this short of a time. Then again, he’d most definitely never curled up to Bilbo at night, or pressed their noses together. And that he had never asked to be carried went without saying.

Thorin would likely chew off his tongue before asking to be carried. Had he actually been conscious when carried away from the battl -

“I’m not carrying you,” Bilbo repeated and walked a little faster. And if his heart was beating a little quicker, that was simply because he’d gotten out of shape since finishing his adventure.

-

After finding someone to take his letter Bilbo didn’t go straight back to Bag End. Instead he found himself at the foot of the party tree, without really knowing how he’d gotten there.

“Great,” he muttered. “Now I’m not even sure how I get to where I’m at, much less the magical rabbits.”

Heaving a sigh Bilbo put his back against the sturdy tree trunk, and slowly slid down until he was sitting on the grass-covered ground. It only took moments before he had three rabbits attempting to fit themselves into his lap.

“But why would anyone turn the three of you into rabbits…” Bilbo rested his head back against the tree. “It doesn’t make sense. Though I guess having three random rabbits that look just like you appear, very mysteriously I might add, inside my- inside Bag End, I suppose that doesn’t really make sense either.”

Fíli and Kíli had managed to distract each other with a tussle, leaving Thorin to stretch himself out fully in Bilbo’s lap.

“You’re not supposed to be a rabbit in the Shire,” Bilbo told him even as he started to stroke his Thorin’s back. “You’re supposed to be a king in Erebor. That’s - that’s how it’s supposed to go.”

The rabbit made a small cooing sound and arched up into Bilbo’s hand.

“You can’t have second thoughts. About wanting to be a King,” Bilbo hastily added. “If that’s what this is. Though I guess it’s not. Because if Dwarfs could turn themselves into rabbits I think one of you would have told me by now. Unless -” Bilbo poked Thorin with his finger. “Is this like the secret language I’m supposed to pretend I don’t even know about even though that’s all Bifur will speak?”

He was not surprised when the rabbit pretended that he’d not heard him.

“And your poor mother,” Bilbo said to Fíli and Kíli, who paused their wrestling to look up at him, ears perking up. “Regardless of this is something self-inflicted or not, I can’t imagine that she’d want you half way across the world from her again.

“And if she’s anything like her brother I would not be surprised if she found a way to blame me for it,” he muttered beneath his breath.

Thorin made a protesting sound and pawed at Bilbo’s thigh.

“It was a joke. Mostly anyway,” Bilbo sighed. “I’ve never met her; I have no idea if she’s like you.”

More protests came.

“I’m happy we parted as friends,” Bilbo said quietly, gently running the tips of his fingers over Thorin’s ears. “And if this really is you, I guess you really have forgiven me. I can’t imagine that you would -”

Bilbo’s fist clenched on air as the rabbit squirmed out of his lap and hopped away from him. “Or maybe you’ve not forgiven me.”

As if sensing his distress, Fíli and Kíli stopped trying to shove each other into the grass and came to wriggle their way into his lap once more and he discovered that the rabbit that may or may not be Kíli really enjoyed having his stomach rubbed.

A small grunt to the side drew Bilbo’s attention.

“Oh.”

It was Tho - the possibly-Thorin-rabbit, holding a yellow flower between his teeth.

“For me?” Bilbo asked, and the rabbit nodded. “Thank you,” he said and reached out for it. As the flower came within reach, Kíli stretched up and tried to eat it. This was not looked upon favourably by Thorin who, after Bilbo had carefully taken the flower from him, proceeded to sit down on Kíli’s head.

“Regardless of what is going on, you are definitely the strangest rabbits I’ve ever seen.”

The golden rabbit yawned and nudged his head against Bilbo’s free hand, sighing happily as Bilbo started petting him.

“And possibly the laziest.”

-

Coming back to Bag End revealed more rabbits.

“Oh no,” Bilbo breathed, because each and every one of the five rabbits sitting outside his door looked awfully familiar. “Is it going to be all of you?”

Fíli and Kíli were already bouncing around the smallest of the newcomers, squeaking happily and ducking away from the nudges and pushes from the larger silver-grey rabbit standing next to it. A little off to the side a sleek reddish rabbit was curled up next to a larger brown-grey rabbit, one that happened to have a bit of its ear missing in much the same way as a certain Dwarf did. And sitting just outside the door was a really fluffy white rabbit, watching the proceedings with a knowing expression on its fuzzy little face.

“If this is turns out to be a common thing for Dwarfs to do, and you didn’t tell me about it, I will _never_ forgive you,” Bilbo sighed.

-

As Bilbo was clearing away dinner, all the while trying not to trip over the rabbits, he suddenly had more rabbits to get in his way. Three of them to be precise, all sitting on the counter, looking very cheerful.

The largest of them, a fluffy heavy-set red one, immediately made its way to the salad bowl that Bilbo had put away earlier, and hopped inside of it. Surprised, you might even say shocked, as he was; due to the sudden appearance of rabbits in a place where mere moments ago there had not been any rabbits, it took Bilbo a while to do something about it.

“No, no rabbits in the salad bowl,” Bilbo finally protested, and the rabbit that could not be anyone other than Bombur lowered his head and begun devouring the lettuce just a little bit quicker.

-

The next morning Bilbo sent a new letter. This one to Dís. Just in case Bofur wasn’t in any shape to read the one he’d already sent. And just in case no one else in the Company was either.

The children of Hobbiton were very appreciative of the additional rabbits he’d collected since the day before.

Bilbo almost told them to try and sleep with eleven rabbits in the bed and see how they liked it, but he realised that they likely would find it a brilliant concept and not a problem. And he didn’t want to give them any ideas and find his bed full of children as well. They likely kicked even worse than the rabbits did.

Valar have mercy if this turned out to be something Dwarfs did for fun. And if this was his friends somehow being turned into rabbits against their will then he needed to keep them safe until he could find Gandalf and wring his hat until he turned them back.

-

The last two rabbits arrived in the middle of Luncheon, and Bilbo wished he could have said he wasn’t expecting them.

Óin and Glóin really made quite handsome rabbits, their fur was a bit longer than the others, and if Bilbo wasn’t mistaken it was the kind that worked very well to make clothes out of, just like you made clothes from sheep wool.

“Which means I’m not above shaving you if you won’t behave,” Bilbo warned as he lifted Óin off his plate. “It’s really rude to not only arrive after a meal has started but to literally show up in the _middle_ of it breaks all sorts of protocols.”

-

Only the last two weren’t the last after all.

-

“I’m not a rabbit,” Bilbo said slowly, and the absurdity of that sentence was almost enough to make his head ache. It probably would have ached, had he not heard far more absurd things already.

Like Kíli yelling about how he had the biggest parasites anyone had ever seen. Or any discussion about Elves that he’d overheard his companions have during the course of their journey. Oh, and let’s not forget the time when he’d said pretty much the same sentence as he’d just uttered in response to a comment from Beorn after being named ‘Little Bunny’.

Bilbo rather liked the big Man, but he could do without his sense of humour

The tiny bunny that had appeared on the bed wrinkled its nose and yawned. It was the same colour as his own hair, Bilbo couldn’t deny that. And he couldn’t deny that its ears were just that bit more pointy than the other rabbits’. And its feet were bigger, big even, as the rabbit itself was so small.

“You’re not particularly helpful,” Bilbo accused. “I think my theory of shape-shifting is ruined now.”

Thorin - the rabbit that reminded him of Thorin made a sound that sounded entirely too much like a snort.

The lastly arrived rabbit perked up and hopped over to where the perhaps-not-Thorin-after-all rabbit was lying next to Bilbo’s shoulder.

“And that’s not helpful at all,” Bilbo said and pulled the pillow over his head to block out the sight of them nudging their noses together as it reminded him of impossible things. But he could still hear them make small happy noises as they greeted each other.

“What are you then if you’re not actually who you look like? I’m telling you right now, I’m not writing more letters. When Bofur and princess Dís get them they’ll think me mad as it is.

Someone crawled on top of the pillow.

“Kíli?” Bilbo asked, slightly muffled. There was a small happy grunt in reply and Bilbo sighed and lifted both the pillow and rabbit away, putting the pillow on his stomach. Kíli promptly climbed down from it and curled up at the crook of his neck. “Great, _now_ you answer to your names. I really thought that speaking to a Dragon would be the strangest part of my life.”

That or falling in love with a King, he added silently. Because there were certain things you didn’t tell guests. Even if they were rabbits.

“You’re not lying there all night,” he said instead to the Kíli-rabbit. “I’ll get a crick in my neck.


	7. Bilbo and the Bunnies. Chapter 3.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE JUST SEEN BATTLE OF THE FIVE ARMIES AND I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS THAT ARE CRAWLING WITH SPOILERS  
> PLEASE CHECK TAGS OF ANY FICS YOU SEE ME POST AS OF NOW, I MAY NEED TO WRITE SPOILERY STUFF

Regardless of where the rabbits had come from and who they really were, they seemed to be in Bag End to stay. Or outside Bag End to stay. Basically, anywhere Bilbo went, they went, to stay for as long as he stayed.  
  
Possibly a little longer, if anyone was around to bribe them with something delicious. Or if there were anyone around willing to pet them, at least if that person was a child.  
  
But they never strayed far from Bilbo’s side.

Which… from time to time, was something of a problem.  
  
-  
  
“By the Valar!” Bilbo gasped and clutched at his chest. The rabbit that had just made the most horrible noise that Bilbo had ever heard grunted at him and curled up into a tight ball. “Dwalin, that’s _my_ chair.” Never mind that all chairs were his chairs.  
  
A low muttering sound, and then a wet sniff, and Bilbo was immediately concerned.  
  
“I didn’t mean to almost sit on you,” he said apologetically, hand hovering over Dwalin’s back. “I didn’t hurt you?”  
  
The rabbit shook his head and sighed.  
  
“Did you have a fight with Nori?”  
  
There wasn’t a reply, but the Dwalin-rabbit seemed to deflate further. Bilbo hummed and started to comb his fingers through the thick, short fur.  
  
“Would you like a tiny piece of cookie?”  
  
“I said tiny, mind!” Bilbo yelled as Dwalin rushed off to the kitchen, ears perked up a little.  
  
-  
  
Another thing that had taken some time to get used to was remembering that walking with rabbits sitting on his feet wasn’t that easy.

Between one and four (depending on which rabbits) managed to fit themselves into his lap at the same time, and the rest of them usually crowded around him in any and all ways possible. Which usually meant lying on his feet when he was sitting in a chair.  
  
Bilbo didn’t really mind, as it was rather comfortable, in fact, it was so comfortable he often forgot that they were there when he made to stand up.

“I’m all right,” Bilbo promised as 14 very concerned rabbits crowded around him where he was lying on the floor.  
  
Huh, he really needed to dust his ceiling, those were some nasty cobwebs up there and Bilbo had had enough of spiders for two lifetimes. “Everyone all right? I didn’t fall on anyone this time either?”  
  
He huffed slightly when the Thorin-rabbit hopped up onto his chest and peered worriedly down at him.  
  
“I’ve only got two feet,” Bilbo defended himself. “You’ve four. And you all keep lying on mine.”  
  
The dark rabbit grunted and rubbed his chin against Bilbo’s jaw.  
  
-

But worst of it was when Bilbo needed to bathe. Because he did need to, regardless of what the rabbits might think about it.  
  
Bilbo was rather proud of his bathtub which was large and made out of copper that he made sure to keep polished at all times (except when running off with 13 Dwarfs, some of which really could have used a good wash before doing any more running, but that’s another story), and even though it took half an age to fill it was worth every bit of hassle when he could sink down to his neck in wonderfully warm water.  
  
However, bathing was much less relaxing with more than a baker’s dozen of rabbits around.  
  
The first time he’d gone to bathe after finding himself with 14 small and furry house guests Bilbo had tried closing the bathroom door, which prompted scratching, upset noises, and then Bilbo splashing a bucket’s worth of water on the floor as the Kíli-rabbit appeared out of nowhere to sit on the shelf holding the soaps.  
  
The moment after, Fíli appeared, on the towels Bilbo had placed on a low bench, and proceeded to try and hop up _into_ the tub to join Bilbo, which was a bad idea for so many, many reasons. But he did freeze when Bilbo yelled at him to stop.  
  
Seeing as the floor was already a mess, the Hobbit sighed and got out of the bath. He wrapped a towel around his waist before admitting defeat and opening the bathroom door.  
  
The rabbits were not pleased with the wet floor, and gathered in clusters on the few dry spots that still remained. Kíli, up on his shelf, was ever so smug.  
  
At least until Bilbo splashed water at him. “Misery loves company,” he told the now sulking rabbit. “Nori, stop trying to take my towel!”  
  
Weeks after that incident, they’d not really gotten any closer to a solution to the bathing-problem. Bilbo really wanted to bathe regularly, and the rabbits _really_ didn’t think that it was a good idea.  
  
“I won’t drown, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Bilbo sighed as he dangled his arm over the edge of the tub to allow Thorin to sniff at it. The rabbit made a contemptuous noise and bumped the inside of Bilbo’s wrist with his nose before giving it a quick lick as if to say that he could help with the washing if Bilbo would just be reasonable and get out of the wet death trap. “Even if I dunk my head under water, _which_ -” Bilbo stressed as Thorin made a protesting grunt, “- I will do, maybe even several times, when I wash my hair.”  
  
The first time he’d done that, he’d resurfaced to find all the rabbits with their ears sticking straight up and their eyes big and round with worry.  
  
“I can’t just lick my paw and wipe my ears with it and call it a job well done,” Bilbo continued, brushing the tips over his fingers over the silver fur sprinkled on Thorin’s ears.  
  
The sound the rabbit made led Bilbo to believe that he was not convinced.  
  
They’d sort of arrived at an agreement though, Bilbo and the rabbits. He did not close the door and did not (intentionally) splash water on them, and they did not try and get into the tub to ‘save’ him, and they kept away from his towels so he didn’t end up peppered with tiny itchy hairs when drying himself.  
  
Neither party were particularly pleased with the situation as Bilbo preferred to bathe on his own and as the rabbits apparently thought that he was trying to drown himself over and over again, but compromises rarely left everyone happy.

-

On the definite plus side of living with rabbits was the time when Lobelia came visiting and was met by seven rabbits sitting in the front hall. Turning on her heel she left, yelling over her shoulder that she’d be back when he’d grown up and stopped playing with _rodents_.  
  
The rabbits made a collective insulted huff at being called rodents and sulked until Bilbo sat down on the floor so they could cuddle up to him. The rabbits that had not even been in the hall were quick to sense that there was an opportunity to be petted, and the result of that was a front hall that had not been so crowded since eight Dwarfs tripped and fell into it.  
  
The thought made Bilbo still, and Fíli nudged his hand and made a soft concerned noise.  
  
“I – just - I got lost in thought,” Bilbo apologised as he continued to pet the golden rabbit.  
  
-  
  
Still, it did get a little overwhelming sometimes. Not being alone.  
  
-

Bilbo didn’t quite know what had possessed him to do it. It’d seemed like a good idea at the time. A very good idea.  
  
And that was why he found himself sitting in the oak tree growing by his smial, 14 concerned rabbits milling around on the ground below him.  
  
“I’ll be right down!” Bilbo promised. “I just- I need some time alone! It’s fine! You can see me perfectly well from down there.”  
  
He had a stray thought, wondering if any neighbours could see him and what their opinion would be, but he was getting better and better at ignoring those thoughts when they came around. Hopefully someone would tell Lobelia and that would make her decide not to visit for even longer than she’d originally planned.  
  
A loud squeak almost made him fall down from the branch he was sitting on.  
  
“Kíli!”  
  
The dark rabbit shot Bilbo a wild-eyed look before closing them and clinging to the branch beneath him. As he started to slip Bilbo hurriedly grabbed him and plunked him down in his lap, wincing as Kíli dug his claws into his legs instead of the tree.  
  
“Everyone, stay where you are,” Bilbo called down to the other rabbits. “Do _not_ come up here. Do no - oh, why am I not surprised,” he muttered as the Fíli-rabbit was suddenly sitting in roughly the same spot Kíli had been occupying moments ago.  
  
Climbing down with two wriggling rabbits stuffed down your shirt was not a brilliant plan, but it was _a_ plan.  
  
He’d asked them if they couldn’t just pop back down the same way they’d gotten up there in the first place, but they’d just flattened their ears against their heads and looked miserable. _Rabbits_. Well, magical rabbits.  
  
Magical rabbits that may or may not actually be Dwarfs.  
  
Which rather explained it all didn’t it.  
  
“Stop squirming,” Bilbo hissed as one, maybe both, of them tickled him something fierce. “I’ve only got one hand free to climb with, and it’s been years since I was a young Hobbit climbing trees to get the best apples. And when we stuffed those down our shirt they didn’t _move_.”  
  
They got back on the ground safe and sound, but this incident caused Bilbo to invent something that was sorely needed to control a herd of rabbits that thought that they knew best.  
  
And that invention was the time out basket.  
  
-  
  
“Thorin, you _will_ go into the basket or so help me there will be no cuddling tonight.”  
  
  
  
Immediately Thorin stopped wriggling in Bilbo’s hold and instead turned his head to give him a rebellious look, which was replaced by a wide-eyed one as what the Hobbit had said really sank into his little head.  
  
“That’s right,” Bilbo said and narrowed his eyes. “Think about that.”  
  
Thorin-rabbit did, and his ears drooped and he stopped struggling. He looked as if he’d been told that there would never, _ever_ , be any more cuddling and Bilbo couldn’t take more than a few moments of it.

“Fine, there will be cuddling, _but_ , Fíli and Kíli will have your spot. You can lie on the bed.”

The sad look immediately turned mulish, and as Bilbo sat him down next to Nori in the basket, the dark rabbit grumbled beneath his breath.

Nori spent most time in the basket out of all the rabbits, which was perhaps not that surprising. But the one who was the most upset about Nori being in the basket was probably Dwalin, who gave Bilbo dark glances in between pressing as much as he could of his head between the slim, loosely woven willow branches that formed the basket.  
  
Nori, (who for the record didn’t seem the least bit upset) nudged his nose against Dwalin and cooed happily. Bilbo suspected that he only agreed to stay in the basket to get sympathy cuddles from the larger rabbit.  
  
“Dwalin, they’re only going to be in there for - No, don’t go into the basket.”  
  
The, well, the Bilbo-bunny had squeezed himself through the gaps in the weave and was now cuddled up next to the Thorin-rabbit.  
  
“That’s not how it’s supposed to work,” Bilbo sighed and ran a hand through his curls. “They’re not going to be in there for _long_. No!” he protested when Dwalin began to push the rest of his head into the basket. “You’ll get stuck and that won’t be fun for anyone.”  
  
The time out basket needed some work. But Bilbo was convinced that the theory was sound  
  
-  
  
In a way it was as if he’d gained all the children that his parents could ever have wanted him to have. The patter of tiny feet might not have been exactly what they would have expected, but he’s pretty sure they’d been delighted anyway.  
  
At least his mother would have been. And his father… he would have come around once he realised the advantages of having the rabbits around.  
  
-  
  
“Achoo!” Bilbo just barely got his handkerchief up in time to catch his sneeze.

All around the kitchen the rabbits flinched and turned to look at him with wide eyes and stiff, raised ears.  
  
“It was just a sneeze,” Bilbo sniffled and blew his nose. “No need to look so startled.”  
  
It had been raining for the last few days, weather cooler than normal for the season, and while his lettuce was coming along well and didn’t seem disturbed, there’d been a persistent itch growing at the back of Bilbo’s throat. He’d been drinking a lot of tea with honey, but perhaps that would not be enough to ward it off completely.

“Achoo!”  
  
Ori flinched and hid behind the bread box.  
  
-  
  
The next morning Bilbo barely made it out of bed. The problem wasn’t his stuffed nose, aching head and sore throat, no; the problem was the mountain of rabbits that had placed themselves on top of him in the night.  
  
“I do have a perfectly good blanket,” Bilbo snuffled as he lifted Kíli down from his chest. He’d no sooner sat the dark rabbit down on the mattress before the Fíli-rabbit took his place, scrutinising at him with the rabbit equivalent of a frown.  
  
The rabbits weren’t that heavy, but it was really hard to move when you were covered in them as he didn’t want to risk anyone accidentally ending up on the floor.  
  
Not to mention that when he moved they all made concerned cooing noises and patted at him with their tiny paws, and to his slightly hazy mind it seemed as if they knew what they were talking, well, cooing, about.  
  
Eventually though, Bilbo _had_ to get up.  
  
“I need to go and well- I need to _go_ ,” Bilbo croaked and managed to free a hand so he could poke the nearest rabbit, which happened to be Bofur. “Otherwise things are going to get very wet and very unpleasant for all of us.”  
  
Bofur lifted his head and nodded, jumping down from the bed, and expecting everyone else to follow, Bilbo was somewhat surprised when no one else moved at all.  
  
It didn’t take long before he heard a scraping sound, and his eyes widened as he saw Bofur nudging the chamber pot out from its place beneath the wardrobe.  
  
“No,” Bilbo said as firmly as he could. “That’s not going to work. At all.”  
  
-  
  
The problem solved itself when he had to sneeze and all the rabbits ended up tumbling down to the foot of the bed, except for Thorin-rabbit who clung to the collar of his night shirt with the determination of someone who’d not abandon him even if he’d sneeze up a Dragon.  
  
Supporting Thorin with a hand underneath his furry little bum, Bilbo struggled to his feet and dragged himself across the hall to take care of business, just barely being able to convince Thorin to let go before going into the bathroom.  
  
As Bilbo opened the door to the bathroom to step out, all of the rabbits were waiting on the other side of it.  
  
“That is a little disturbing,” Bilbo told them and coughed, following it up with a shiver. It was all that was needed for the rabbits to spring into action, and Bilbo was herded back to the bed by them nudging his heels, and after climbing back into bed he was quickly covered in rabbits once more.  
  
“If I sneeze, you will regret this,” he told them and sniffed, but it wasn’t long before he was asleep once more, murmuring softly every time Thorin-rabbit or Óin-rabbit pressed their noses to his forehead to check his temperature.  
  
At lunchtime he was nudged awake by Ori who proudly presented him with a potato chip that had only a small bit missing. Kíli and Fíli brought him flowers, which, even though they were half eaten, was a nice gesture indeed.  
  
But a Hobbit couldn’t live on one potato chip and appreciation alone, and after some discussion with his living blanket, Bilbo managed to negotiate to be allowed to get up and eat something, and for a few days this was pretty much the standard.  
  
The only variation between sleeping, eating, and going to the bathroom, all the while being watched over by a gaggle of worried rabbits, came when Nori decided that Bilbo needed some cheering up. And what better way to cheer someone up than with something shiny?  
  
Bilbo had no idea how Nori managed to get it out of the glory box, and he wanted to believe that the rabbit had started out with the best of intentions, but it didn’t change the fact that he came strutting into the bedroom with Bilbo’s mithril shirt draped over his back and then refused to come close enough that Bilbo could reclaim it.  
  
The metal was light enough that it didn’t pose a problem for the rabbit, but _that_ did pose a problem for Bilbo.  
  
“That is m-muh-mine,” Bilbo protested, couching his way through the end of the sentence. “Nori, stop that.”  
  
Unsurprisingly Nori didn’t listen, and there was no way Bilbo had the energy to chase him down and put him in the time out basket. Rescue came in the form of Thorin who sighed and pressed his nose to Bilbo’s cheek before hopping down and wresting the mailshirt away from the red rabbit.  
  
Giving Bilbo an apologetic look Thorin kicked the shirt beneath the wardrobe, his longer legs making sure that Nori would not be able to get it.  
  
Giving the Thorin a sour look Nori looked pleadingly at Dwalin who huffed and cuddled up a little closer to Bilbo’s shoulder.  
  
Not a happy bunny, Nori nevertheless joined them on the bed, accidentally on purpose stepping on everyone he could manage before flopping himself down on top of Dwalin.  
  
“Thorin gave that to me,” Bilbo explained. “It’s - you shouldn’t have taken it. You can’t take things without asking fir -” he broke off to cough and Thorin the rabbit; having also returned to the bed, gave Nori a most disapproving look. It, or perhaps Bilbo’s coughing, made Nori look a little apologetic.

Just a little.  
  
-

On the fourth morning Bilbo woke and felt a lot better. And after a good wash he even felt _well_ , though he would have preferred a lengthy soak in hot water. But ~~as~~ he didn’t have the patience to fill up the tub nor the desire to deal with the extra concern a bath would earn him from his small and furry friends. They seemed convinced that he’d end up drowning himself, and while Hobbits admittedly weren’t very good swimmers, they were really taking that worry a little far.  
  
Rubbing his damp curls with a towel, Bilbo secured the belt of his dressing gown and trotted towards the door to let in some fresh air. But he’d not gotten further than the kitchen when someone knocked on said door.  
  
“Probably one of the Gamgees,” Bilbo mused. “Perhaps they’re wondering where -” he looked down, expecting to see at least a half-dozen rabbits, but instead only found Thorin and wooden floors. Looking down the hallway revealed a furry little behind disappearing into the front hall.  
  
“Perhaps they’ve brought some of the children,” Bilbo mumbled to Thorin as they continued down the hall. As he got closer to the front door he could hear the rabbits honking excitedly to each other, all crowded up against the door.  
  
“Children _and_ treats,” Bilbo said and hid a yawn behind his hand. “Good, they can tire you out while I have a nap.”


	8. Bilbo and the Bunnies. Chapter 4.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've a tumblr, do not forget to check Fishy's
> 
> http://fishsicle.tumblr.com/
> 
> Won't you agree that the art has been awesome? :D

There was not to be a nap.  
  
“You’re _really_ not rabbits,” Bilbo said faintly.  
  
Indeed not. Because that was definitely four Dwarfs kneeling outside his front door as the rabbits ran around them, climbed over them, and made small jumps for joy every so often while emitting a constant stream of squeaky, happy noises.  
  
Thorin and Dwalin and Bofur and Nori.  
  
In Hobbiton. Outside his door. And not one of them a rabbit.  
  
He wasn’t sure if it was a relief or not.  
  
Had he mentioned that they were kneeling? Thorin too. Thorin, kneeling, right in front of him. Looking up at him with _eyes_. Of course. But… did they use to be that blue?  
  
His beard was longer. But that made sense. It had… been a while. Bilbo blinked down at him.  
  
 _Really_ , though, _had_ his eyes always been that blue?  
  
“No kidding,” Nori said and scratched Nori, erm, the rabbit Nori, on the stomach.

“What?” Bilbo asked, still lost in thoughts about varying shades of blue. “Oh, rabbits. Yes. I mean, you’re not rabbits.”  
  
Rising to his feet with Bilbo-bunny sitting in the palm of his hand, the rabbit looking as pleased as Bilbo had ever seen him, Thorin nodded in greeting.  
  
“Bilbo.”  
  
The rabbit cooed happily and rubbed his head against Thorin’s thumb.

“I was not talking to you,” Thorin murmured, gently rubbing his thumb over the rabbit’s ears. “But yes I am happy to see you. And of course,” Thorin looked back up at Bilbo. “I am glad to meet you again as well.”

Was it possible that the longer beard somehow made his eyes seem bluer? No?  
  
Bilbo dug his nails into his palm in an attempt to get himself to focus.  
  
“Welcome,” he said and tried his very best to smile even though his mouth appeared to have other ideas of what it wanted to do, but this was not the time to start saying silly things. Not when he’d kept himself from saying them for so long. And doing silly things. Preferably he should work on stopping to think silly things as well.  
  
“Got your letter,” Bofur said as he too stood up, arms full of Bombur, Bombur-rabbit that was, and oh dear, this was going to be horribly confusing wasn’t it.  
  
“And you thought you’d deliver your reply in person?” Bilbo asked as he took a step backwards. “Come in, come in. I’ll not have you standing outside like strangers. I’ll put the kettle on.”  
  
“Any chance for the frying pan to make an appearance?” Dwalin rumbled.

Bilbo turned to give him a smile, and froze. Dwalin had two rabbits hanging over his shoulders, Óin and Glóin, and it had just occurred to Bilbo that while having the rabbits around had gotten entirely normal for him over the last few months, it should _not_ be normal to his friends. He had mentioned them in one letter. That was all. And what was it Thorin had said?  
  
“Wait. Wait, wait, _wait_ ,” Bilbo said and shook his head. “You - the rabbits, you know the rabbits?” He looked down. “These rabbits? _My_ rabbits?”  
  
“They were our rabbits first,” Nori said a touch possessively, scratching the Dwalin-rabbit beneath his chin.  
  
“ _What_?”  
  
-  
  
He was going to blame his slow uptake on having spent most of the last three days in bed.  
  
“So what you’re saying is that before they showed up here, they were with you in Erebor?” Bilbo pushed the last egg muffin in Dwalin’s direction before he could ask for it. “And then they disappeared?”  
  
“And showed up here,” Bofur nodded. “Sneaky little things they are. We had no idea where they’d gone before I got your letter. Miserable, we were.”  
  
A niggling thought had rooted itself in the back of Bilbo’s mind and was trying to make its way up towards the light.  
  
“So, you came here...”  
  
“Bilbo,” Thorin said, looking at him with a very serious expression. “We wanted -”  
  
“You are _not_ taking my rabbits.” Bilbo said and placed put palms on the table, glaring at Bofur who looked rather taken aback. But as Bilbo hadn’t felt up to the task of glaring at Thorin, Bofur would just have to excuse him. “I did not write you for you to come here and -”  
  
“Bilbo,” Thorin said again, and Bilbo ignored him and ignored the part inside himself that wanted to shiver happily and ask him to say his name again.  
  
“It’s not acceptable,” Bilbo said and stood up, chair screeching against the floor. “You cannot -”  
  
“ _Bilbo_ ,” Thorin said, standing up as well. “The rabbits will go where they wish, have you not noticed that by now?”

Bilbo had. You’d have to be stupider than a Troll not to have seen it. He was pretty sure even his _doors_ knew it by that point as they were opened a lot less than they should have been for all the rooms the rabbits got into when they shouldn’t have. Nori in particular.

“I -” Something nudged his foot and Bilbo looked down to see Thorin, the Thorin- _rabbit_ , patting at him with one paw. The rabbit had blue eyes, of course it did. And damn it all if they didn’t seem to be bluer as well.  
  
Bilbo rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was going to blame having been ill for that one too.

“I need to go and lie down for a bit. I’ve been… poorly for the last few days.”  
  
Which was true. He was not running away to hide. He was _napping_.  
  
“You’re sick?” Bofur asked, frowning. “Bilbo, you should have said.”

“I’m -” Bilbo didn’t get to finish his assurance that he was fine, just in need of a nap, because suddenly Thorin was a lot closer than he’d been the moment before, and a large palm was pressed to the Hobbit’s forehead.  
  
It was possible that Bilbo made a tiny, less than dignified, sound.

“You feel a little warm,” Thorin murmured, sliding his hand down to brush over Bilbo’s cheek before settling on his shoulder.

“Dwalin, we need to do that thing now,” Nori said and nodded at the larger Dwarf. “Bofur, you too.”  
  
“What thing?” Dwalin asked, chasing the last of the muffin crumbs on the plate.  
  
“That thing. No not THAT thing,” Nori said when Bofur started to look a mix between uncomfortable and intrigued. “That thing that we can’t do in _here_. Which is still not _that_ thing.”  
  
“Oh, _that_ thing,” Bofur said, eyes widening, and Bilbo finally looked away from Thorin (blue!) to find his friends in the middle of rising from the table.  
  
“ _What_. _Thing_?” Dwalin asked, eyes narrowed.  
  
“Just come along,” Nori sighed and pulled on his collar. “I’ll explain.”

“Yes. So we’ll be outside.” Bofur nodded at them and grinned, and together he and Nori towed a grumbling Dwalin out from the kitchen.  
  
Bilbo and Thorin stared somewhat bemusedly after them.  
  
The rabbits, apparently not bothered at all by the hasty retreat of the three, sat on the floor and oozed contentment from having their two favourite people together in a room. Almost all of them were making that strange sound that seemed to be a cross between purring and gritting their teeth.

As Thorin removed his hand from Bilbo’s shoulder the Hobbit had to bite down on a protest.

“I was wondering,” Thorin said quietly. “We - Fíli and Kíli wanted to come with me. Here.”  
  
Bilbo blinked. “They missed the rabbits too I take it?”  
  
“They’ve missed you. You’ve been missed. Is there -” Bluer eyes (maybe) and now he was _hesitating_. If Bilbo didn’t know better he’d thought that the real Thorin had actually been turned into a rabbit and this was someone else. “Would you consider joining us? When we leave?”  
  
Now it was Bilbo’s turn to hesitate, his fingers curling and forming lose fists. “I’m not sure I’m up for the trip to Erebor and back again, it -”  
  
“No. To stay.” Thorin took a step closer. He was very close now. And his eyes were unfairly blue. “In Erebor. You would be coming with us to _stay_. If you wanted.”

“I -”  
  
“Will you think about it?” Thorin asked, as pleadingly as Bilbo had ever heard him sound.  
  
He _really_ must want the rabbits to come to Erebor.  
  
“Thorin, I - I went back -, well, I came back here for a reason.” That was true. If not very detailed.  
  
Something flickered over Thorin’s face. “It is your home,” he said, taking a step back. “Of course.” And before Bilbo could figure out what to say to that, Thorin nodded at him and walked out of the dining room, Fíli- and Kíli-rabbits hopping after him, making upset noises.  
  
“Home,” Bilbo sighed, feeling the word that he’d even tried to avoid thinking about grow on his tongue. “I suppose so.”  
  
So why was he picturing blue eyes and dark hair instead of a green door and round windows?

-

“What is mini-me _wearing_?” Nori did a double-take as Bilbo walked out into the back garden a little while later. “And _why_?”  
  
“Don’t tell me Ori’s got you convinced that everything green is bad,” Bilbo sighed. “They’re just leaves. Someone thought it was nice. Please don’t -”  
  
“No,” Nori protested. “I can see that those are leaves, but why is the rabbit wearing a pack on his back that’s made out of leaves?”  
  
“They’re not actual leaves?” Bilbo shrugged one shoulder. “It’s cloth, and then it’s been dyed. And -”  
  
“Why is a rabbit wearing a little bag on its back?” Nori asked, bending down to try and pick-up his namesake, but Nori-rabbit would have none of it and quickly hopped out of reach, hiding behind Bilbo’s legs and sticking his tongue out at the Dwarf.  
  
“Because he wants to?” Bilbo crouched and stroked his fingertips over Nori-rabbits ears. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s rather hard to carry things around when you don’t have hands.”  
  
“You made a pack for the rabbit?”  
  
Bilbo snorted. “You’ve seen me try to sew back buttons on my clothes, did it seem like I had much luck with it? No it was a gift. It belonged to a doll, but the little girl who owned it thought that it fitted Nori better.”  
  
The rabbit had been ecstatic with the gift, jumping around to such an extent that the three nuts the girl, Lily, had put in the bag for him had kept falling out. It’d taken some practice before Nori had mastered the art of hopping without accident, and he still liked for Bilbo to tie the pack shut. At least if he did so with an easily undone bow.  
  
Nori-rabbit needed help to get the little pack on and off, which was why he’d not been wearing it while Bilbo had been mostly confined to bed, but now, he wore it again with pride.  
  
Nori had something rather calculating in his eyes as he looked down at the red rabbit. “How much can he carry?”  
  
“You are not getting _any_ rabbits involved in something seedy,” Bilbo warned, straightening. Nori-rabbit’s ears perked up. “No, you’re not having any seeds,” Bilbo said and put his hands on his hips. “They’re not good for you.”  
  
“Where’s Thorin?” Dwalin asked, looking up at Bilbo from where he was sitting together with Bofur; their backs against the side of the smial. Thorin-rabbit and Bilbo-rabbit were now both snuggled up together in Dwalin’s lap. As Bilbo watched the rabbits pressed their noses together and embarrassingly enough, Bilbo could feel himself flush.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Thorin,” Dwalin said drily. “Did you do away with him and drag him into the pantry?”  
  
“Or just the latt - ow,” Bofur complained as the rock Nori had thrown bounced off his hat.  
  
“Don’t throw rocks!” Bilbo protested. “You might hit one of the rabbits. And as for Thorin, I thought he’d be out here. I don’t think he was still inside. Unless he did hide in the pantry.”

“We’ve not seen him,” Bofur said, giving Nori a displeased look as the redhead grinned at him while throwing another rock from hand to hand.  
  
“I’m not taking the blame if Thorin gets himself lost in Hobbiton. _Again_ ,” Dwalin added after some deliberation.  
  
“Fíli and Kíli, the rabbits, are with him,” Bilbo said. “Or I think they are.” He bit his lip. It was strange, not knowing for sure where all the rabbits were.

“Very good you clarified, the rabbit part,” Dwalin said and very gently scratched Bilbo-rabbit behind one ear. “Or I’d think the lads would have snuck after us.”  
  
Bilbo wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, so he decided to change the subject.  
  
“I should go down to the market and get -”  
  
“Ah, but you’re sick,” Bofur said. “You said you were going to nap. That was an awfully quick one.”  
  
“I changed my mind.”  
  
“Sleeping is the key to a full recovery,” Bofur said very earnestly. “That’s what my mum always said.”  
  
“Thank you Bofur,” Bilbo smiled. “But I’m not very tired.” It was not exactly the truth, but he didn’t think that he could sleep.

“What’s wrong with you?” Dwalin asked and Bilbo tilted his head to the side, unsure if he should take offence or not. “You said you were sick,” Dwalin clarified, shifting as Ori and Bofur, Bofur-rabbit that was, and Ori-rabbit too of course, decided to squeeze themselves into his lap as well.  
  
“I said I’ve _been_ poorly,” Bilbo huffed. “Which does not on any account mean that I _am_ _sick_.”  
  
“What kind of poorly?” Bofur asked but he didn’t wait for a reply. “If you eat a whole garlic that’s sure to clear up most everything.”  
  
“Have you been listening to Óin again?” Nori snorted.  
  
“Why wouldn’t I listen to him?”  
  
“Two words: bad idea.”  
  
“I don’t think -”  
  
As Nori and Bofur got into a small argument about if Óin had actually cured anything ever, and no, setting a broken bone did not count, Bilbo tried sneaking away, only it was rather obvious that he was going when the rabbits begun to follow.

“I’ll be right back,” Bilbo promised. “But I really need to pop down to the market and -”  
  
“We’ll go,” Bofur said and smiled brightly. “Write us a list and we’ll take care of it. Six hands can carry more than two anyway. And this way you can take your nap.”  
  
Nori and Dwalin were discussing something in whispers, the ears of Thorin-rabbit and Bilbo-rabbit twitching with barely hidden interest.  
  
“Fine,” Bilbo said finally, damn Bofur and his cheerful smile. Telling him no was like kicking a puppy. “I’ll write a list. But I don’t want to hear about any trouble.”  
  
“Trouble?” Bofur asked, pure innocence shining in his green eyes. “We’d never.”  
  
“And if you see Thorin -” Bilbo hesitated. “Never mind. I’m sure he’ll - never mind.”

Dwalin-rabbit sighed and Bilbo nudged him with his toe. “No one asked you.”  


-

To his surprise, Bilbo actually managed to fall asleep, because some time later he woke up by his bedroom door opening.  
  
“Nnnrgh?” Bilbo asked as he rolled over to lie on his back. “Mrrm?” Wait, he shouldn’t really have been able to roll over. Where-  
  
Sitting up, head spinning just a little, Bilbo looked around for the rabbits and found them sitting at the foot of the bed, looking up at _Thorin_ who was looking down at Bilbo. And as Bilbo had just been wearing his dressing gown over his underclothes before, he was now just wearing his underclothes which meant a thin shirt and his pants. Resisting the urge to cover himself with his duvet, Bilbo sat up and ran a hand through his hair. He opened his mouth, but before he could find any words Thorin spoke.  
  
“Fíli-rabbit and Kíli-rabbit were scratching at your door. I wanted to be sure that you were all right. You did not answer when I knocked.”  
  
“Pro-” Bilbo had to clear his throat. “Probably because I was sleeping." Fíli and Kíli turned too look at him, Kíli jumping over to rub his cheek against Bilbo’s knee for a moment before bouncing back to sit at the end of the bed.  
  
“They hopped up,” Thorin said, looking... looking a bit sheepish of all things. Bilbo was really beginning to wonder if the idea of Thorin not being Thorin had some merit after all. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”  
  
“It’s all right.” Bilbo stretched his legs, poking Balin in the side with his big toe which made the rabbit sniff and hop a little to the side. “I shouldn’t be sleeping when I’ve guests.”  
  
“Guests.” Something in Thorin’s tone made Bilbo look up. “In your home,” Thorin added, devoid of any emotion. And then he turned on his heel and walked out of the room.  
  
“I’ll never understand him, will I?” Bilbo sighed, flopping down on the bed again.  
  
Kíli rabbit came over to pat him on the nose before he jumped down from the bed and ran after Thorin, Ori-bunny following him. “You’re not going?” Bilbo asked Fíli. The rabbit sighed, giving Bilbo a _very_ unimpressed look that the Hobbit was sure that he didn’t deserve, before following Thorin as well.  
 _  
-  
_  
Dinner was awkward.

Nori and Bofur kept whispering to each other, Dwalin looking increasingly annoyed, and Thorin looked to be at least partially made by marble, his expression anyway as his face did not move at all except for when he opened his mouth to eat. But at least he and every ate the food with good appetite.  
  
Bilbo didn’t know if his own lack of appetite was due to still not being entirely recovered, or if it could be blamed on any of his guests, or on any of the 14 rabbits that kept sighing unhappily beneath the table.  
  
He really didn’t want them the leave. But to go to Erebor… He would not be alone in Erebor, no. But perhaps… perhaps even more lonely then he’d been before the rabbits arrived.  
  
Because he didn’t have a place in Erebor. Fíli and Kíli might be happy if he came but he was pretty sure that they were in a very small minority. On second thought, Bilbo knew that the lads would be happy to see him. They would have had to nag Thorin quite a bit for him to ask in the first place, rabbits or not.  
  
Regardless of Thorin and him parting as friends, there was a long way to go from that to wanting even a little bit of what Bilbo wanted. And seeing Thorin every day… wouldn’t help.  
  
-  
  
Sneaking out to have a smoke was really hard when you had close to a dozen shadows, but Bilbo still think that he managed quite well.  
  
Sitting down on the bench he helped any rabbits that wanted to sit on it with him, the rest of them more or less collapsing in a pile on, and close to, his feet.  
  
Everyone sorted out Bilbo sighed and lit his pipe, looking up into the star-filled sky.

Yes, if he went to Erebor, he’d see Thorin, from time to time. As King he was probably too busy to spend time with his once-upon-a-time-burglar, even if they had been friends. Maybe. Bilbo honestly wasn’t sure what would be better. Not that he was going to go. But-  
  
“I… have missed you.”  
  
A little, okay, a _lot_ startled Bilbo met Thorin’s eyes. He’d not even heard him come out. Had Thorin begun to appear out of nowhere just like the rabbits?  
  
“I have -” Bilbo bit his lip. _I’ve tried not to think about you because sometimes it made me feel absolutely miserable._ “Missed you too.”  
  
Thorin’s shoulders relaxed a tiny amount. “I would like to speak to you.”  
  
“I think you’ve already begun,” Bilbo pointed out, suddenly remembering that he’d lit his pipe so he took a hopefully fortifying puff. And promptly coughed, choking, and ended up half-way hacking up a lung, as if it was his first time using a pipe. How embarrassing.  
  
“You are not well,” Thorin told him, a small frown creeping its way across his forehead. “Yet you go outside in the middle of the night not fully dressed.”  
  
Bilbo politely refrained from pointing out that it was hardly in the _middle_ of the night and that it was a moderately warm night in late spring. “The rabbits aren’t cold,” he said, and hadn’t that seemed like such a less inane thing to say while the thought was still in his head...  
  
“They have fur.” Thorin shook his head, and to Bilbo’s confusion he started removing his own coat. It was not the same as the one he’d been wearing on the quest, but it was a fair bit similar, being of a dark colour with a large fur collar. Hopefully not rabbit.  
  
“Here,” Thorin said, holding the coat out.  
  
“I can’t take your coat,” Bilbo protested as he realised Thorin's meaning.  
  
“You will get sick again.”  
  
“I’m fine.”  
  
The rabbits, all fourteen of them, watched this back and forth, eyes flitting between the Hobbit and Dwarf depending on who spoke.

“You -” Thorin sighed and then he stepped over the rabbits and wrapped the coat around Bilbo. It was a very warm coat but Bilbo barely noticed.  
  
In the low light coming from the moon and stars Thorin’s eyes didn’t seem to be very blue. Instead they were dark, and they… were coming closer?

“Bilbo,” Thorin murmured leaning down, and Bilbo, who at this point didn’t even dare to breathe, stretched up to meet him and -  
  
A happy coo made them turn their heads.  
  
Bilbo-bunny and Thorin-rabbit were glaring whatever the rabbit-equivalent of daggers would be at Bofur-rabbit who looked apologetic.  
  
Noticing that the Hobbit and Dwarf were now looking at him as well, he nodded at them before hopping down from the bench, little tail bouncing, and hid behind Bombur.  
  
Before Bilbo could talk himself out of it he stood up, coat falling to pool on the bench (and on top of Dori who grunted loudly in protest, but it was to deaf ears). Bilbo took a step forward, or well, he tried to, because he had forgotten that Bifur, Balin, and Dwalin had settled down on his feet. So he fell. Straight into Thorin’s arms.  
  
It was hard to say who looked more stunned. Dori was definitely the _grumpiest_ as he fought his way out from the coat, but no one really paid attention to him, too caught up in what was happening.  
  
“Were you actually going to kiss me?” Bilbo asked when Thorin didn’t seem to be inclined to loosen his hold, and Bilbo was definitely not going to _ask_ to be let go, even though he now had both feet firmly on the ground once again.

“Yes,” Thorin said, in a rather grim tone, and suddenly there was a tension in him that hadn’t been there the moment before.  
  
“Right,” Bilbo said, nodding, and he licked his lips before rising up on his tip-toes and pressing a quick kiss to Thorin’s mouth.  
  
Thorin… did not kiss him back.  
  
“I- ” Bilbo began, licking his lips, flushing as he realised that he’d licked lips that had just touched Thorin’s, but before he could work out if he’d been going to apologise or not, Thorin swooped down.  
  
Nori-rabbit sighed contently and leaned against Dwalin-rabbit who rolled his eyes but nevertheless rubbed his chin against the smaller rabbits head.  
  
Bilbo-bunny and Thorin-rabbit were curled up together on one corner of Thorin’s coat, and the smaller of the two pressed himself closer against the larger rabbit’s side. The Thorin-rabbit made a low, pleased sound and licked Bilbo-bunny’s nose.  
  
It was possible that Nori, Dwalin and Bofur realised that their presence wasn’t needed, or they were just too busy emptying Bilbo’s pantry (which, since they’d filled it this time was more fair) but Thorin and Bilbo were left alone outside for quite some time. Not counting the rabbits of course.

Dori-rabbit had covered Ori-rabbit’s eyes with one of his ears, and the Kíli- and-Fíli-rabbits had folded their own ears in front of their eyes, turning their backs to the Hobbit and Dwarf as well, just to be sure.  
  
Entirely lost in Thorin’s kisses Bilbo whined in protest when the Dwarf pulled away.  
  
“Come to Erebor,” Thorin breathed, his voice even deeper than normal, and Bilbo prided himself on the fact that the Dwarf sounded a little out of breath as well. Nothing like his own laboured breathing, but that was just another thing he was going to blame his recent illness on. Oh dear. His illness.  
  
“I’m going to give you my cold,” Bilbo murmured.  
  
Thorin frowned. “If you come to Erebor?”  
  
“No, no,” Bilbo said. “But, we, erm, kissed. Just now.”  
  
“I did notice,” Thorin said, gaze dropping down to Bilbo’s mouth and the Hobbit shivered.  
  
“Promise me this has nothing to do with the rabbits,” Bilbo said and he would have waved his hand in the rabbits’ general direction, but somehow his hands had snuck into Thorin’s hair and they seemed pretty intent on staying there.  
  
“What?” Thorin blinked. “No, of course not. Bilbo, I know this is your home, but if would come with us I -”  
  
“No,” Bilbo said.  
  
“No?” Thorin made to pull away, but Bilbo, having picked up a thing or two from certain stubborn rabbits, didn’t let him.  
  
“No, this is not my home.” He looked up at Thorin, sliding one hand down from his hair to stroke over a bearded cheek. “It _was_. And then I left it. And when I come back I… I had changed. And now I don’t fit. Bag End is the same, but I’m not.” Bilbo huffed out a small laugh. “Gandalf warned me this could happen. But I didn’t really understand it.”  
  
A low sympathetic murmur came from the rabbits and Bilbo smiled wryly. “Indeed.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Thorin murmured.  
  
“I – don’t. I don’t think I am sorry. Not anymore. Not if you really want me to come with you.”  
  
“I never wanted you to leave.”  
  
“Then - why didn’t you say anything?”  
  
Thorin shook his head, bending to press a kiss to Bilbo’s forehead. “I never thought you’d say yes.”  
  
“I’m saying yes now,” Bilbo said, expression serious.  
  
“You will come to Erebor?”  
  
“If you want me to.”  
  
“ _Yes_.” And with that Thorin closed the distance between them and Ori-rabbit sighed as his eyes were covered for a second time.  
  
“Tell me again,” Thorin demanded between kisses.  
  
“Yes, I will come with you to Erebor,” Bilbo promised, a smile that could not be stopped sneaking its way onto his face. “We all will.”  
  
And 14 rabbits cooed happily, the Bofur-one even daring to peek out from behind Bombur.  
  
-  
  
“Cancel the plan to throw them both inside the pantry,” Nori said as he closed the front door. “Looks like it won’t be needed after all.”  
  
“Think we should sleep outside tonight?” Bofur asked. “It’s a warm night, and they might appreciate the privacy.”  
  
“Privacy?” Nori asked, eyebrow quirking and the corner of his mouth twitching. “I think you’re forgetting something.”

Dwalin wandered out from the kitchen, suspicious looking crumbs in his beard. “Aren’t you tired of meddling yet?” he asked.  
  
“No more meddling needed,” Nori replied and grinned. “They got there in the end. Only now I’m curious how long it will take them to realise that having a bunch of rabbits hanging around while trying to shag might put a damper on things. Might not get there tonight, considering how slow they’ve been to get to _this_ point. But they’ll get there eventually and then…”  
  
“Ah,” Bofur said eloquently. “Didn’t think about that.”  
  
Nori’s grin grew. “Five gold says that neither will they. And mini-Dori will be the most upset one. Probably the one with the loudest protests too.”  
  
“Kíli,” Bofur said and they shook hands.  
  
Dwalin snorted. “Going to be a long way home,” he murmured and ambled back into the kitchen. “And,” he called over his shoulder. “Don’t you think Thorin and Bilbo, the versions of them with two legs, might be the most upset? It’ll be their rocks that won’t be polished.”  
  
Nori and Bofur looked at each other.  
  
“Damn.”  
  
“Yeah, he might have a point.”  
  
“A long way home indeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would not be surprised to see more stories in this series... just so you know.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [How Azog Brought Love to the Mountain](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6145716) by [Grumpel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grumpel/pseuds/Grumpel)




End file.
